But Not Really
by Ignorance-Your New Best Friend
Summary: What do you do when your best guy-friend starts saying stuff like "I want to kiss you... but not really"? Yeah. Watch - or rather, read - as five minutes in 'heaven' changes my life. For worse. Obviously. Fax. All human.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm in a Max Ride mood, and I thought of this last night in two in the morning, when I couldn't get to sleep because **_**Max**_** isn't here yet.**

**Say I have no life. SAY IT.**

**Anyways, please read and review!**

**Anything you recognize IS (not) mine.**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 1

I don't know how Ella, Iggy and Fang teamed up to make me come to this party. I mean, Ella doesn't even know Iggy or Fang too well, but, apparently, I'm the life of _any_ party, and Ella's friend, Nudge, _needed_ me.

So, Ella let Iggy and Fang in my room without me knowing. And I had just gotten out of the shower, so I looked slightly neater than usual (mom calls it the afterstate – I look neat for about ten minutes before I see my reflection again and scruff it up).

But I don't take well to people in my room – even if I have known Iggy and Fang for, well, forever, that doesn't undo the fact that when my room isn't prepared there is underwear on the loose! Not that I'd worry if it was only Iggy since, he's, well, blind, but I bet Fang gave him all the details.

Anyways. For some reason, they've dragged me to this party… thing.

But don't worry.

I didn't go down without a fight.

"I still can't believe you bit me," Fang mutters, and I scowl at him.

"You brought this upon yourselves. You practically broke an entry!" I tell them as Iggy rubs his stomach sorely. I know, I know, I'm _evil_, seeing as Iggy is blind and all. But he is _so_ good at orientating himself (and cooking) that you can forget that he's blind all together. Not that I forgot that he was blind when I punched him in the stomach. He asked for it.

"It's only one party," Iggy growls. "And we're all going. And Nudge _admires_ you."

"I hardly know her," I grumble. It's not my fault that I'm too awesome for words.

I stop one last time at the door. There's always a chance that I can kick Fang and Iggy in the shinsand make a break for it.

But, no, the door opens and there stands Dylan, otherwise known as 'Mr Perfect'. Ella insists that one day we'll get married – don't worry, I've assured her that that's _so_ not going to happen. But, Mr Perfect has a charming smile…

OK. The possibilities of kicking anyone without looking like a total man beast are now very low.

Fang seems to realize this too as he lets out a sigh at my side.

"Hi, Dylan," I say, more for Iggy's sake than for my own.

"Hi, Max, Ig, Fang," he greets, but he's frowning at me. "I didn't know that you'd come. Ella was saying something about your cousins coming over, and you wanting to stay and greet them…"

Angel and Gazzy! I scowl at Iggy and Fang again, but it's wasted on Iggy and Fang isn't paying any attention.

"Oh, there's Brigid," he says, and pushed past Dylan into the so-very-busy house. _Well, goodbye to you too_, I think darkly. OK, so I don't like Bridgid. Not because she's Fang's girlfriend or anything, but because she's way too old for him. She's a cougar.

OK, Fang is fifteen and she's seventeen, but the age difference is still nasty! I mean, it's OK for a girl to go out with an older guy, because, well, that's hot (_not_ because I'm fifteen too, and Dylan is seventeen…). But the other way around, it's just creepy.

Wait, is that machist or…?

"Is Ella here, then?" I ask Dylan, trying not to roll my eyes at Iggy's change in posture – I mean, he went from normal-slumping-teenager to obscurely-tall-and-dreamy in less than a second. Someone ought to give him props for that.

"Yeah, I think he's in the kitchen-"

"Bye Dylan. C'mon, Ig."

I don't think that I can stand any longer being with Dylan without, oh, I don't know, saying something extremely embarrassing, or being able to fry hotdogs on the heat that's radiating from my cheeks, and besides, I feel bad for Iggy. Some best friend Fang is. I mean, normally, Fang's Iggy's eyes. Ah, but not when Bridgid's around.

Sigh.

We weave out way throughout the load of people and I wonder why on Earth Ella's friend needed _me_ here. I mean, there are jocks, cheerleaders – a whole load of popular people. I prefer to keep to myself. Iggy's here because of Ella (duh) and Fang's probably here because Bridgid. I mean, he's not exactly Mr. Popularity, but he has gained a reputation of the dark and mysterious guy that girls like to drool over.

Yuck.

_Anyways_.

I spot Ella and Nudge in a corner, wearing dresses that I know mom and dad would not approve of. I take Iggy's hand and pull him after me. Ella sees me, and, instead of trembling in horror, she smiles widely.

Oh. It was one of _those_ days.

See, little sisters can be like that. You can shout at them, get really pissed, be really scary, and all they'll do is smile back at you, like nothing can affect them.

So, basically, I've lost already.

But, I better give it a try.

"You are so dead," I say, struggling to make myself heard – and, more importantly, intimidating – over the roar of the music.

"Max!" Nudge squeals before hugging me and kissing me on both cheeks.

"Nudge!" I say back, but, let's just say that we are not amused.

"Hi, Iggy," Ella says, completely ignoring me, surprise surprise.

"Hi," Iggy says back, looking in Ella's general direction. Ella thinks that Iggy's awesome. I mean, she only met him like, a year ago, and I've known him since before he was blind – long story – so she thinks the fact that he can orientate himself perfectly is amazing. I suppose that I've gotten used to it. I mean, I'm still super impressed, and I feel really bad for him, but Ella _worships_ him.

Anyways.

"What am I doing here?" I demand of Ella and Nudge. I've known Nudge for as long as Ella's known Iggy. Still a long story, I'll tell you guys later. The point is, I know that they are up to _no_ good whatsoever.

"We're going to play a game," Nudge says, bouncing up and down like she does. I dare a look at Ella. She's still smiling brightly, but there's a little sprinkle of evil in that innocent little face of hers.

"What game?" I ask. Yes, I'll admit, I'm afraid. Very. Afraid.

"You'll see," Nudge says, still bouncing up and down. "Ooh, look! Lissa!" And just like that, she was gone.

I turn to my sister.

"Ella, if you do not tell me what's going on-"

"You'll leave?" she asks innocently.

I blink.

"Well, yeah…"

"Dylan!" she shouts.

Oh no.

No, no, no, no.

Iggy smirks as I sink into the crowd, hoping to mingle, but I stick out way too sorely. I'm the only girl not in a way-to-short dress. Who _allows_ these parties, anyways? Nudge is only thirteen!

The door, the exit, the freaking door, where is the freaking door?

I spend the next half of an hour just being generally lost. I don't think that I mentioned how big Nudge's house – sorry, _mansion_ is. I walk into my share of couples making out, too. It isn't pretty.

And then, somehow, Iggy finds me and drags me downstairs – I've been hiding in one of the upstairs bathrooms, seeing as I failed at finding the way out. You'd think that finding a massive door would be easy, but seeing as I go in the opposite direction of people, it was hard.

And then, for reasons unknown to even myself, I0m sitting in a circle with about fifteen other people, the majority of whom I don't even _like_, playing spin-the-bottle.

Now. I do not know how exactly I manage to get myself in these sort of situations. I mean, they're the sort of situations that I go out of my way to avoid. But having a blind guy drag you through a crowd kinda makes you curious about where you're going to.

But this. This is just ridiculous. With Ella on my left and Nudge on my right, I can't move. Not that I couldn't hurt them if I wanted to, but I don't want to. I mean, I'm not some kind of freak.

And then, suddenly, with Dylan at about fifteen past, considering that I'm at half past, I figure it out. This whole party is a set-up! My sister is trying to set _me_ up with the school jock!

Oh no she didn't…

"Max, it's your turn," Nudge says brightly. Oh, I bet that she also had a lot to do with this. I think that they've been trying to work out where to sit me so that I would most probably be paired up with Dylan.

But, I mean, it's a bit vague.

I mean, I can spin the bottle any way I want.

Oh, who am I kidding? Who else would I rather kiss? Iggy? Yeuch. Bridgid? I mean, come _on_. Luke, the nerd that's probably only here because he won't get _anything_ any other way?

"Pass," I say, taking off my other shoe. I mean, they are sooner going to see me naked before I choose (sort of) to be stuck in a closet anyone in this room. Including Mr Perfect. Because I'm just that stubborn.

We all wait as Nudge disappears with Aden, and then it's Fang's turn.

I know, right? I'm here being held captive, and he's just bored, obviously, and wants a nice smooch. I don't look at him as he reaches over and spins the bottle. I try to ignore Bridgid watching it willingly. Yuck.

And then Nudge lets out a squeal of laughter. OK, I was going to have to draw a line if Fang went in _any_ closet with a thirteen year-old.

And then he speaks, and I almost die.

"Come on then, Max."


	2. Chapter 2

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**Thanks to the reviewers: JealousMindsThinkAlike, xXReading Is My PassionXx, XXXxSmIlEyMe123xXXX, Froyogirl27, Sierra156, JezabelStrike, BookWorm2011 , smartiful, Just an Angel of Death, Guardian Bear and Palmspringz.**

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**Review again! :D**

Chapter 2

OK, here's the deal. Fang's my best guy friend – scratch that, my _best_ _friend_, period (sorry, Ig).I mean, we fight, and sometimes I want to punch his face out, but that's only been lately. We can practically read each other's minds and I'm more comfortable around him then I am around anyone. I mean, I knew him even before I even liked my parents (once again, I'm pulling out the much loved 'more on that later' card).

But this… this is not cool.

"No," I say, looking at the bottle that is, without a doubt, pointing towards _me_. Fang's already standing up. What is wrong with him? Doesn't he _know_ that this defies the law of girl/guy friend relationships? "Take my jacket!" I splutter. "Keep it! I'm not going in there!" I won't dare meet Fang's eyes.

"You're playing the game, this is your own fault," Nudge reminds me chirpily.

"Why can't I just take my jacket off?"

"That's not the rules."

"Well whoever made the rules is one idiotic son of a nutcracker!"

People in the circle laugh at me. They _laugh _at me.

"Go on, Max," Ella says. "It's only five minutes."

I meet her eyes and I know that I cannot beat the higher power of spin-the-bottle. And Nudge is right. This is my own fault. Why? Because I'm one idiotic nutcracker.

"Fine!" I say, jumping to my feet. I turn to look at Fang, and hope that color doesn't rise to my cheeks. I point my finger at him. "If you think that anything remotely interesting is going to go on in there you are gravely mistaken!" I warn him. Fang puts his hands up and says nothing. "That goes for all of you!" I say to the entire circle. OK, to everyone else in the room.

What? I have a non-existent reputation to keep up here.

The march to the closet is a long one. I look at Bridgid – she looks gobsmacked – but I won't look at Dylan's extreme attractiveness.

_Stop staring at me…_

Fang opens the closet door and my heart is in my throat. This is going to be so very awkward.

"Ladies fir-" he starts.

"Finish that and you die." But I march in before him anyways.

I cross my arms and he closes the door behind him.

And then we just stand in the dark, in silence.

And of course, I can't be silent. And this whole thing is too awkward. And Fang's expressionless face on the way to the closet was too frustrating.

"As if anything was actually going to go on in here," I scoff.

Silence.

And silence is so _unusual_ for Fang.

I'm kidding, he's a freaking mime and I'm a comedian.

But times like these I wish he was a chatterbox, like Nudge. It would make this so much less awkward.

"Are you sure?"

Ah. And _this_ is why they say 'be careful what you wish for'.

The closet isn't small as in tiny, but it's still only big enough for two people, meaning our bodies are touching.

Why am I standing facing Fang again?

Oh yeah, because he's my best friend, _not_ a potential rapist.

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" I ask. It's dark in here. So dark I can't see a thing – not like that isn't anything new with Fang. Sometimes, he practically melts into dark backgrounds.

But right now I'm hyperaware of everything. Hyperaware enough to know that he is _way_ past the point of violating my personal bubble.

My heart is thudding to the beat of its own Green Day song (Fang's obsession, not mine).

_'Go on, Max. It's only five minutes'_. Ella and I were going to have a serious talk after this.

"Don't you sometimes wish that the trio was down to two?" Fang whispers. My stomach does a flip.

"It _is_ down to two when you throw yourself at anything in a skirt." _Aha_, my poker face extends to my voice too. How awesome am I?

"Does it make you mad?"

_Oh_ God. OK. Fang is now inches away from me, whispering in a low, husky sort of voice that makes acrobats decide that my stomach is a good place to hold a circus.

"Max?"

Five Minutes In _Heaven_? Try Five Minutes In Hell.

"Maybe," I answer. And suddenly, I'm truly panicking over the fact that Fang might _actually_ kiss me. I mean, ten minutes ago I would have laughed at the idea, but right now I'm terrified.

And, once again, the silence is killing me. But it's worse this time. It has its own knife and everything.

There should be a timer. Or the least someone could do would be to shout out: two minutes left! And I'm a-hopin' on the two minutes thing.

And then Fang's face is so close to mine I can feel his breath _on my lips_.

I swear, if he actually kisses me I'm going to…

What?

Oh, geez, I don't know what I'd do-

"I really want to kiss you right now," he whispers.

I don't know if I heard correctly. I do know that I'm starting to feel way too jittery – after this, I'm most definitely going to be claustrophobic. My heart is throbbing in my throat, _and_ in my chest. It's like a double-threat, and I just hate it.

I mean, this is Fang, and me, and me, and _Fang_…

And I don't care.

If he actually kisses me, I won't stop him.

I close my eyes – pointless, I know – and wait, when there's a voice outside.

"Time's up!"

I jump away from Fang, staring at him in horror. The door opens but, get this, it's Iggy.

"Come on out, lovebirds," he grins.

Under normal circumstances, I would punch him in the arm. But, then again, I am not under normal circumstances right now.

I go back to staring at Fang, the friend part of me thinking: Did you just get that?

And the other I-don't-know-what part of me is thinking: So why didn't you?

Both parts of me want to hurt him very badly.

And he shrugs.

"But not really," he says nonchalantly. I stare at him, and I'd like to say that my expression isn't gobsmacked. But, uh, it is. Fang puts his hands in his pockets and just _leaves_, Iggy following him, not thinking anything else on the matter. I mean, not even _asking_ anything else. What? Would something actually having gone on between Fang and I be so strange? OK, so I crushed any possibility of pondering such a thing before entering the closet, but, I mean, that had been a _whole_ five minutes!

Wait, five minutes? Not just an eternity?

Hmm…

"Max?" Ella asks_. Oh god. Please not now. Just go away_. "You're standing in a bucket."

I pull my foot of the bucket, helplessly trying to pick up the remaining pieces of my dignity and, folks, my dignity ain't lookin' pretty. I turn to my sister and point a finger at her.

"This is the worst party _ever_."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN- YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME.**

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**AND TO EVERYONE THAT ALERTED/FAVORITED.**

**Now, just putting this up here: The Truman Show (which I do not own) is a film, or, as crazy (you?) Americans like to call it, a _movie_ with Jim Carrey in it, in which his whole life is a TV show, and everyone but him knows it. He can never leave town people there are always mysterious 'accidents' and stuff that won't let him, and etcetera...**

**Max: Uh... what was that for?**

**Me: Shut it!**

**Max: No!**

**Me: OK, fine... you got Fang's number?**

Chapter 3

But wait, there's more!

As if that hadn't been too mind-boggling, seconds later Fang is out of the game and, - get this – so is Bridgid.

I mean, they're only talking, but their heads are really close together and I want to cry. What is wrong with him? Is he going to completely ignore everything that just went on in there? Part of me hopes that he does. That we could back to normal. But it's not exactly back to normal right now, because he seems to be completely ignoring me.

I don't really know why I'm still here. I mean, the spin-the-bottle game seems to be over, not that that was the only thing keeping me here. Dylan is staring at me a lot, and I don't take well to being stared at.

And, suddenly, for the first time in a while, I'm feeling _really_ self-conscious. I mean, I look like a guy. I'm the only girl here in a pair of jeans. OK, skinny jeans, I'll give myself that much, but still… and my hair. Why do I insist on cutting it myself? With a knife?

Wait. Stop.

OK, I'm really freaking myself out here. I don't care about what anyone else thinks! I mean, I play soccer. I'm cool.

Right?

"Max, we should get going," Ella says, taking my hand. Thank you, my savior!

Ah, but things are never _that_ easy.

I look at my younger sister, and she looks way too eager to get out of here.

"El?" I ask, but she's dragging me through the crowd.

Wow. I wish people would stop doing that.

So, I'm leaving, so I look around the room quickly. OK, I'm lying. I look at Fang for one last time, expecting him to ignore me.

Ah. But no.

He looks up from his wonderful conversation with the brilliant seventeen year old cougar, straight at me, and does something totally surprising, something so totally un-Fang-like that makes me blink a couple of times to make sure that it actually just happened.

He smiles at me.

One of those rare, Fang smiles that – under normal circumstances, which, uh, this isn't – I would kill to see.

Oh, there's gonna be killing alright. And not in Fang's favor, in case you're wondering.

OK, he's still smiling, and it's much more of a smirk.

As Ella drags me through the crowd the smirk doesn't fade.

In case you're _still_ wondering… Fang is _so_ dead.

xxx

When we get home, Ella disappears into her room. I disappear into my room. I don't turn on any lights, because I decide that mom is probably asleep.

I put on pajamas – something that I very rarely do, but I feel like spoiling myself tonight, so sue me – and crawl into bed before covering my head with the covers and screaming into my pillow.

"What's wrong?"

"HOLY CRA-noodle!" I finish, seeing as My Little Stalker is only six years old. "Angel!" I say, bringing myself out from under the covers, hoping the darkness covers the redness of my face. "I forgot that you guys were coming!" And that she was sharing my bedroom… then again, I did volunteer…

Angel is my cousin, and the most adorable little thing in the whole wide world.

Wait – actually, I'm going to take this time to explain my messed up family-life, if you don't mind.

Right. I live in Washington DC, and I always have.

My name is Maximum Ride/Batchelder/Martinez. Take your pick.

Ever since I was a little Maximum I lived with Jeb Batchelder and my ex-mom (don't worry, the explaining will make sense... I hope). My best friends were a still-seeing Iggy and a rather dark, notorious little Fang. He was the cutest thing…

Wait, what?

Then, Jeb and ex-mom had another child, Ari. Then, ex-mom ran away with some guy and Jeb finally told me that she wasn't _my_ real mother, but she was Ari's.

I mean, that's messed up... but I already knew that.

So, my brother was my half-brother, and my mom wasn't my mom, and my dad, well, he was a liar. His name was changed (in my mind) from 'dad' to 'Jeb'. He told me that my real mom was in Africa or something, saving Safari wildlife. She didn't know that Jeb had lied to me, and Jeb had only lied because he thought that it would be easier for me.

Well, easy my ass, Jeb.

Anyways, that was three years ago. Fang and Iggy had been on my side, blablabla… Oh wait! When Iggy was seven in a horrible car accident with his mom, and I don't ask for details – no one does – but it left him blind.

And then, a year ago, mom and –hey, new sister!- my half-sister moved back into DC. So, as for Jeb… I was _so_ out of there.

Meeting mom for the first time was awesome. She was so pissed at Jeb she filed a law suit. It was awesome. And Ella. Super awesome. I mean, going from having an annoying (but much loved) little brother to having two annoying siblings! What could be better?

But I had to move from one end of DC to the other, from Jeb's mad-scientist mansion to mom's new-but-not-so-shiny apartment, therefore changing schools and, practically _lives_. But it was so worth it.

I love my mom.

And her cookies are the best.

Now, just to clear things up, my life is seriously messed up and I know it. I mean, you don't see Iggy... wait, he's blind. OK, so you don't see Fang... he hardly talks.

Arg, the sad part is that the only person I can think of to use in that sentence is Bridgid. So I'm just going to leave it unfinished there for ya.

Have you seen _The_ _Truman Show_? That movie starring Jim Carrey? Sometimes, I wonder if my life is like that. You know, minus all those school trips and that summer holiday to Mexico.

But that thing with Fang? That was definitely _The Maximum Show_ material. I mean, watchers would be all like: 'What was going through his head?' and 'What could this mean for their friendship?' and 'I totally ship them' (Ella verb, not mine). True, most of the watchers' questions are sorta mine (except for the shipping thing... geez...).

Alright, back to present time:

Angel's sitting on my bed now, looking at me with her ginormous blue eyes, her elegant blonde curls dancing around her face.

_Dancing around her face_.

God, one almost-kiss with my best friend and I'm turning into such a sap face!

I know, I know, my insults are unique.

Angel is Ella's dad's sister's daughter (_The Maximum Show_!), but I love her and her brother, the Gasman (… you don't want to know), so much that I don't really care who her parents are.

"You're upset," Angel whispers. Ah, Angel is freaky smart – it's almost as if she can read minds… Though, then again, she did just catch me screaming into my pillow… "Is it Fang?"

_There's_ the mind-reading. I mean, it's not like I scream into my pillow all the time, and the cause of the screaming is always Fang. I don't even _see_ Angel that much. But, hey, I'm obviously transparent.

"It's nothing, honey. We'll talk in the morning, 'kay? I'm really tired," I lie. I mean, I am far from getting any sleep.

Sleeping? Hard as Hell. Beating the crap out of Fang?

Easy as pie.

xxx

The next day is a Sunday, and Iggy and Fang come over, as per usual.

Except, now is not per usual, IS IT?

I study Fang carefully, but he seems pretty normal. Meaning his face is as blank as a wall, and I can't even see his eyes, because his hair in the way.

"Iggy!" the Gasman yelled. Iggy and the Gasman have this odd mutual friendship. Whenever Angel and Gazzy stay, Iggy and Gazzy disappear for hours. To say that Iggy is the Gasman's role model is an understatement.

"My little dude!" Iggy says, slapping a high five with the ecstatic eight year-old. Iggy never misses a high five. It's kind of creepy.

"No explosives in the house boys!" my mom shouts from the kitchen.

Don't ask.

"Hi, Fang," Angel says shyly from behind me. Angel has this totally adorable crush on Fang. It's, well… totally adorable.

Fang crouches down, and nearly smiles.

"Hi, how's my little Angel doing?"

Why are Fang and Iggy so close with my family, you ask? Well, because they're sort of my family too.

And _no_, that doesn't make anything ever happening between Fang and me incest! Boy, you have a sick mind…

"Good," Angel answers, twirling one of her curls around one of her fingers. Aww, she is just the sweetest thing.

"And how's my Max doing?" Fang asks me, looking up.

I blink.

He did _not_ just call me 'his' Max.

He looks up at me and tries to seem innocent, but I see straight past his façade. Sort of.

"Well enough to kick you into next week," I snap. Doesn't he know that him being on the floor and me, well, _not_ being there is an extreme disadvantage? For _him_?

"Max was really mad last night," Angel tells Fang.

Wait a second.

Adorable and sweet demon!

And once more, the infamous smirk.

"She probably just missed me too much," Fang tells her, ruffles her hair and stands up again. He used to be shorter than me. Oh, memories… "Right, Max?" he asks me. Angel is watching us with her big blue eyes.

I give Fang my coldest look.

"Correctomundo."

Okay, I can't believe that I just used that word.

I shall probably never use it again.

_And_ enter my mom.

"Hello, Fang," she says. That's all she says.

Ahh… she's spotted the fact that, once again, we are only inches apart.

_Once again_, I _need_ to stop getting myself into these situations.

Mom gives me a meaningful look that obviously means 'we'll talk later' and then leaves, but it's OK, because I love my mom, and I will probably never get enough of her.

Ever.

Now, getting back to people I most certainly don't _love_…

Fang's face betrays no emotion but I just know that he's dying of laughter inside.

Well aware that Angel is attached to my leg, I step even closer to him, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach.

Though his face is blank, his dark eyes seem mildly amused, and that is _not_ acceptable.

"Bring it on," I hiss.

I hope that it's fear in his eyes I see as I turn back to Angel and pick her up.

"Come on, then, lamby," I say cheerfully, "Let's introduce Fang to Total."

**Alright, alright, I admit it. Sort of a filler chapter. You can hate me if you want to, but there are loads of nice, unanswered questions that I know fanfiction readers love!**

**Like, why was Ella upset when they left the party? What the hell is going on through Fang's brain? Who _is_ Total? Aha, I'm kidding.**

**Truman Show confusion? Read the AN at the top, because if you don't know what it is then it's because you haven't read it :D Gotcha!**

**And I hate long ANs and this is a double-threat so I'm going to stop writing now but not before saying that I (do not) own Maximum Ride and please review telling me what you think!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN- YOU GUYS SHALL NEVER CEASE TO BE THE GODS OF AWESOME! I mean, I hope so, because I love all of your reviews. By the way, 3 chapters, 33 reviews? I just found that amusing.**

**I don't have time to answer reviews here, I'll PM everyone later, 'kay? Alright! Here's the next chapter!**

Chapter 4

OK. So on Sunday Fang and I started this secret little 'game' that no one knows about but us.

Okay, so _maybe_ Angel knows too, but only because she can read minds!

… And because she started insisting that Fang and I got married, which is, uh, **_unthinkable_**, so I may have let something slip…

… And, if Angel knows, then her dog, Total, probably does too. Not that Total knowing about it would be a problem – actually, it would, because he is not a smart little scotty, so him knowing _anything_ would be something to look into…

Anyways.

I don't find the game _fun_ in any way, but Fang challenged me. Sort of. And he cannot beat me at anything. It's against the laws of nature.

Even though he's winning.

I mean, it's not my fault that he's a guy, and he can make ridiculous (and rude) comments (that make my heart flip) with no shame!

When I said 'bring it on', I thought that I had sounded cool and sure of myself. But even Fang knows that I am _neither_ of those things right now.

Anyways.

Thanks sweet Jesus Christ Superstar Fang and Iggy don't go to the same school as me anymore. I mean, I don't know if I could take trying (and failing) to (not really) flirt with Fang with the whole school watching.

Oh. My. God.

I can't believe that I just used 'flirt' and 'Fang' in the same sentence! Gawd, 'flirt _with_ Fang'!

_Eeewwww_!

"Max, Max, Max, Max!"

Nudge comes bounding towards me, Ella following her with a look that says 'sorry, I tried'.

I mean, today's Tuesday, and I'm still in a bad mood. It's been two days of random pick-up lines from my best friend, I've got to go home and endure more of it after soccer practice, and it's not helping my sanity too much. Ella picked up on that at once, but Nudge is as nice, clueless and as perky as ever.

The tan-skinned girl stops in front of me, bouncing up and down.

"What?" I ask resignedly, closing my locker. For some reason, Ella is shaking her head vigorously from behind her friend. I realize that practically giving Nudge permission to speak was the wrong move, but it's too late.

"Are you and Fang _dating_?" she says all in one excited breath.

I stare at her.

_'Please excuse me while I go throw up!'_

I mean, I don't say that or anything, but I think it very loudly.

For some reason, my cheeks heat up, and I look around to make sure nobody heard before making everything clear.

"No. There is no 'me and Fang'. There is no 'Fang and me', and there never will be. Fang and I will never _ever_ date. There _is_ no word 'date' in the same sentence as the words 'Max' and 'Fang'. Max and Fang are just friends, and friends they will stay. If anyone else suggests otherwise, I will kick their butts."

OK. Maybe I went a bit too far on the last sentence, but, as I said before, I'm in a bad mood.

Nudge looks bizarrely disappointed. Ella's eyes are wide open and her cheeks are white. Then, she snaps out of it.

"Told you," she says to Nudge, but I'm not buying it.

"Ella?"

"Hm?" she answers innocently. She's about as innocent as Angel (who isn't innocent in any way, at all, ever).

"What's the matter?"

Ella and Nudge exchange a look. You know the one that girls exchange when they have a secret. And, for some reason, I'm not in on the secret. And I'm Ella's sister. If something is bothering her, she should tell me what it is. You know, so that I can kick someone's butt and make it all better.

"It's a secret," Nudge blurts out, but then Ella stomps on her foot. "Ow, what was that for?"

"Els?" I ask Ella, getting more and more annoyed and hurt by the second.

"We have to go," she says, not looking at me. "School's finished for the day and that. See you at home!"

"This is not over!" I shout after her, but I can't be sure if she's heard me or not. Hmph.

Well, soccor practice. Actually, I've been quite looking forward to some (sort of) me time. At home there's Angel (whom I love, but won't leave me breathing space), Gazzy being, well, Gazzy (you still don't want to know) and the most important of them, I guess, Fang, because he seems to have moved in during daylight hours for the sole purpose of making my life over the past few days a living hell of doubts, butterflies and cringes.

So, now I get to go and kick a ball as hard as I can, and, I mean, _gladly_.

I get ready in the changing room, hearing the other girls on the team gossip about so-and-so hooking up with that-one-guy only to find out that so-and-so's boyfriend was at the same party…

I sigh as I pull my hair up into a ponytail. Will these kind of stories ever become interesting to me? Because, if they in fact will, I fear that day.

We train on one half the football field, so I come out of the locker room expecting to see Dylan's admirers clamming up the stands. But when I see the familiar dark blob just sitting there, with all of Dylan's admirers staring at him instead, my heart clenches in a rather uncomfortable way.

Lissa, a fellow soccer teammate of mine screams from behind me and then starts giggling like a crazy person. I don't even know why she's on the team. She ducks when balls come towards her.

"It's him!" she tells the other girls, and I hope that she isn't pointing at Fang. I don't want to turn around to find out. "The dark and mysterious guy!" Oh, well I guess that that settles it.

I march up to the stands, and Fang nods as he sees me. Because waving would look too much like he gave a damn.

Our trainer isn't here yet, so I climb the stands until I'm standing directly in front of him, my hands on my hips. Even though I'm staring right at him, I can't believe that he's here. I don't think that he's ever been to my school before. I mean, his school is on the other side of town!

"What are you doing here?"

Shrug.

"How did you get here so quick?"

Shrug.

"You skipped school, didn't you?"

Shrug. "School is stupid."

Three words. Good enough.

I sit down next to him, and notice that the girls in the stands are now staring at me. So are Lissa and her gang. So is Dylan.

"So, are you going to tell me what you're doing here?" I ask Fang again.

"Showing support."

"A month before the summer holidays?"

Shrug.

Everybody staring at us makes me nervous. It kind of makes me want to stick my tongue up at them, or something else ridiculous. You know, to give them something to look at.

The _other_ thing that makes me nervous is that Fang hasn't tried to flirt with me yet. Meaning, he could be here to apologize, or the pick-up line is alarmingly close.

Oh, pick-up lines, you ask?

Well, I'm not saying that Fang is a poet or anything (because he most definitely isn't), but here are a few examples of his jerk like comments:

"You look pretty…" Pause, stare into my eyes, _aaand_: "… stupid right now."

"You know, I've been thinking… maybe we should…" Pause, looks unsure of himself, looks back at me, swallows, "take Angel and Total to the park."

_Yeah_. He definitely wants to die. Oh, I'm taking my sweet time, by the way. It's not as if I _couldn't_ hurt him if I wanted to.

I stare at my hands, annoyed.

No comment so far this time, which is… good. I mean, I like my heart beating at its normal pace, and I like the butterflies _out_ of my stomach, _thank you very much_.

"You know," Fang suddenly says, looking at me, and my heart plummets, "the truth is that I came here to see you." I stop breathing – something that _isn't_ natural – as he takes a free strand of my hair and pushes it behind my ear. His fingers brush lightly against the side of my face and I find that I'm completely paralyzed. Not a good sign.

But a voice in the back of my brain is shouting: _it's a trap! It's a trap!_

I tell said voice in the back of my brain to shut up, because I wouldn't mind staying like this forever, as long as voice in the back of my brain stays _out_ of my head.

"... Fail terribly at playing soccer."

I snap out of it (out of what? Out of _what?_) and grit my teeth, slapping his hand away from my face.

"You suck, you know that, right?" I ask him, standing up. He shrugs, trying to hold down a smile.

_OK, Maximum. You've hung around like an idiot for long enough._

_This_ voice I like.

I wipe the scowl off of my face (trust me, it's hard) and put on the sweetest smile I've worn in years. It kind of hurts.

I bend down – thinking how badass it would have been of me to actually wear a shirt that would show some cleavage – and lean in as close as I can without having to worry if he can hear my heart, once again (unhealthily) beating to the rhythm of an exceptionally loud Green Day song.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," I whisper into his ear, in what I hope is a 'sexy' sort of voice.

I repeat: OH GOD, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME? I DON'T _DO_ SEXY!

"And maybe after this, we could…" I pause. "Go back to my place and..." My eyes flicker towards his face, you know, to check my progress, and I see that his eyes are wide. Well, in a Fang sort of way, because _too_ much emotion would be the death of him. "... watch Iggy and Gazzy blow up stuff," I finish, leaning back with a smile.

Alright, not _too_ good, but hey, I'll learn.

Even though catching the look on his face would most definitely be so worth it, I don't. Mainly because I'm rather pink, and also because I'm walking away in a 'Heck yeah' way, something I enjoy doing immensely.

That'll teach him to show up at _my_ school, unannounced.

When I join the team, we're sent to do laps around the field.

Lissa catches up to me, breathing hard... or hardly breathing.

I _know_, ha, ha, _ha_.

"You _know_ him?" she gasps.

I frown, pretending not to know who she means.

"Who, Fang?"

"_That's_ his name?"

I nod.

"That is _so_ cool!"

I frown again, but for all the wrong reasons.

"Could you, like, introduce us, or, are you, like, dating?"

I just love how she asked to be introduced _before_ asking if we were dating. Way to be ruthless, Lissa.

My eyes flicker towards Fang on the stands except - whoa! - he's gone. I wish he'd stop doing that...

Now, I am confronted with a decision. Introduce Fang to Lisa, the perky - ugh - _redhead_ or tell her to back off. Now, how to tell her to back off...

"We're dating."

I did _not_ just say that.

**OMG YOU GUYS I'M SO SORRY! But I don't want to make a habit of writing super long chapters, so... SORRY AGAIN!**

**And please review, even if it is saying how much you hate me! **


	5. Chapter 5

**So, I'm not too happy with this chapter. I've taken a bit longer to update because**

**a) Graduation**

**b) The Wifi in my house HATES ME. I just couldn't get on the internet. It sucked.**

**BUT YOU GUYS ARE STILL AWESOME xD**

**Thanks to JealousMindsThinkAlike, volleychick12, Froyogirl27, ObsessiveReader1223, Sierra156, XXXxSmIlEyMe123xXXX, BookWorm2011, Eleos, Whatever Way The Wind Blows, dancerxforlifex3, Thunder48, Moon Agent, pancakes-for-you and Guardian Bear!**

**All of you telling me to update made me sad about not being able to. And now I don't even like this chapter. Well, I hope some of you will like it!**

Chapter 5

"Max!" Nudge squeals happily.

Fine. Sure. Make fun. It's not my fault that the house was empty when I got home, and that Iggy is with Fang (I do not know how he gets around so fast) buying supplies for god-knows-what illegal project and that Ella is here, at Nudge's mansion-house-place.

And it's also not my fault that I can't be left alone with my own thoughts without being driven _insane_.

"I didn't know you were coming!" Nudge says, leading me through to the living room, where my sister is sitting, or rather, lounging on the sofa. "We would have made sandwiches or something, right?" Nudge asks Ella. Ella shrugs, not looking up from her book. Aww, the little braniac. You know, when she's not drooling over boys and shopping for clothes that she hardly needs.

"Oh, it's OK, I'm not hungry," I lie. I'm always hungry. Ella knows this, and she looks up from her book with a raised eyebrow.

"What are you doing here?"

Well, she could sound a little less rude…

"I just needed some company."

Ella all-out frowns.

"_Company_," she repeats. When did she stop smiling and look so damn scary?

I break under the pressure of her frown.

"Listen, I have to tell you guys something," I say, running a hand through my hair and sitting in an arm chair. I can see the infamous closet out of the corner of my eye, but I try keep it out of my line of sight.

"Yay!" Nudge says.

"Tell us what?" Ella says, closing her book and sitting up.

I bite my lip, and try to look away from the two pairs of intent eyes.

"I… I… I kind of told Lissa that Fang and I were sort of going out, as in dating," I blurt out.

That's it. My cover's blown.

Nudge gasps and puts her hand to her mouth. Ella just stares at me.

"What? _Why_?"

Ah, the age old question. Oh, and by 'age old' I just mean 'not-so-old but very annoying'.

Ella still seems confused.

"Just _three hours ago_-"

"I know, I know, I know…" I interrupt, putting my head in my hands.

Wow. I can't believe that I'm telling them this. But they were probably going to find out anyways, what with Lissa, the second fastest motor-mouth in the school.

Guess who the first is.

"OMG, you two would _definitely_ make a cute couple!" Nudge says, bouncing in her seat. "And to think, before you were saying that you never would be, you know, a couple, and now, well, you sort of _are_!"

"But I don't want to be!"

"Then why did you lie about it?" Nudge asks, frowning.

Then I say something really intelligent, like, "I… um… THISSUCKS!"

"It's your fault," my sister says. I look at her, and she's fighting a smile. What, so my suffering is the only thing that will make her happy? "First spin-the-bottle, and now this?"

"I'm cursed," I mumble in defeat, slumping into my chair, ready to just sink all the way into it and never come out.

"Or maybe..." Ella pauses. I frown. I don't like the sound of that 'or maybe'. "Or maybe you really do like him."

_Or maybe you're stupid!_

I don't say it aloud, of course. But it takes all of my self-control not to.

I settle for, "Or maybe I don't."

I hope that my tone of voice will make her drop it, but I suppose that I should know better.

Ella and Nudge exchange another look, before Nudge says, "Or maybe you do."

"Or maybe I don't."

"Or maybe you do."

"Or maybe I don't."

"Or maybe you-"

"I don't, alright!" I say loudly enough to make Nudge shut up. And, even if _some_day (a day that will _never_ come) I did, Nudge and Ella wouldn't be the first to know. In fact, nobody would know. I'd take it with me to the grave, for fear that if Fang ever found out he would just laugh at me as if I were one of those girly-girls that he just disposes of with a wave of his hand, leaving me heartbroken and scarred for life, never to love again, having lost a friend and all of my dignity.

But, uh, that day will never come.

Nudge is biting her lip, and Ella is still studying me carefully. Thank god Angel isn't here, and somewhere else in the city where she can't pick up my brainwaves.

"Listen, I just did it because Lissa was asking for me to introduce them, and Lissa is, well, a redhead and then Fang would be all over her, how we all know he is with redheads…" I trail of. Ella and Nudge don't look convinced. "And what about Bridgid? We can't have Fang pining over another girl, I mean, Bridgid is his girlfriend…"

So what? I sort of forgot completely about Bridgid the last few days.

"So you lied and said that you're his girlfriend? When you could have just said that he was taken?" Ella asks, frowning. "You _do_ realize that that kind of doesn't make any sense at all, right?"

"Uh… no," I try.

"You know what you should do?" Nudge finally says. "To stop the rumors?"

I shake my head no, and watch her because I'll take _anything_ before the rumors get to Fang's ears. Or Bridgid's, of course. We wouldn't want to hurt her feelings.

"You should like, totally date someone else."

I blink.

"_Date_ someone," I repeat. "_Me_?"

Nudge looks at Ella for answers, but I answer for her.

"I'm not that kind of girl," I try to explain. "I'm not the type of girl that guys like to date. Guys think I'm one of them, and girls just generally hate me."

"What about Dylan?" Nudge suggests. "He's _always_ checking you out. And he's super-hot. He's like, the hottest guy in school."

"Checking me…" I try, but I don't finish. It's just too bizarre to contemplate. Dylan? The 'hottest guy in school'?

"Yes," Nudge nods, getting more and more excited by the second. "And Ella and I could help! We could make you pretty-" She stops under my glare. "I mean, prettier than you already are, which is _a lot_…"

"No," I say, even though Ella is nodding eagerly.

"Oh, please Max," she says. "I would _love_ to help you buy some new clothes."

I look down at my jeans.

"What's wrong with my clothes?"

"You wear the same things every day."

"Well, duh, everything goes with jeans." I know _that_ much.

"And your hair… there are always knots in it."

I have the oddest feeling of déjà vu before I remember that Ella has already tried this on me when I moved in with her and mom.

"You're really pretty, Max," Nudge tells me. "It's just that people can't see it, because you try to hide it so hard."

As she stares at me with her big brown eyes, I can't help but feel that by 'people' she means Fang.

xxx

That night, mom catches me brushing my hair whilst staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I mustn't do it much, because she looks terrifyingly surprised.

"Honey?" she asks, confused.

"I'm just brushing my hair," I say, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Before bed," she says.

"Well… yeah."

"You never do. You always say that it will just get scruffed up again."

Well, she has me there.

"Is everything alright?" she asks, closing the bathroom door behind her.

"Yeah," I say, shrugging.

"Are you sure? Because we never had that talk."

She raises her eyebrows and I know immediately what talk she's referring to. The one where I had been standing too close to Fang and she had given me a 'we'll talk later' look. And I'm guessing now is later.

"Are you and Fang dating?"

Whoa. Way to be blunt, mom.

And, for some reason, I start laughing. Like, uncontrollably. And I'm not completely sure as to why. I just know that my sides hurt and mom is laughing too.

… And looking at me like I'm crazy, but hey, you can't have it all.

When I finally stop, mom is smiling at me.

"Do I take that as a no?"

I sigh.

"Yeah. We're not dating."

And, for some reason, I sound really bummed out.

Heck, I _feel_ really bummed out.

Mom stops smiling, and looks at me. Mom really cares about me, I can tell it whenever she looks at me. I know that she wants me to be happy.

Then again, I had known that about Jeb.

"Do you wish that you were dating?"

My stomach turns uneasily.

"Maybe," I answer, turning bright red. "Yeah."

Well, give it up for me, ladies and gents, _Contradictory Max_! I mean, I deserve an award for this.

God, I hate Fang so much. For making me have these weird, messed up, contradictory feelings! I mean, I'm not even safe in my own head anymore! I can only hope that his life is as messed up as mine right now. But, I repeat, I can only hope.

Mom tucks my hair behind my ear, and I'm reminded of Fang doing the same thing this afternoon.

Kind of creepy, but heck.

"I'm sure that everything will work out in the end," she tells me.

Well, as long as _you're_ sure, mom.

"I don't know…"

We both turn around as there's a knock on the bathroom door.

"Hey! I need to get in there!" Ella says loudly.

Mom looks back at me.

"Do you want to keep on talking, or…?"

"No, I'm fine. I'll just go to bed."

When I enter my bedroom, Angel is already sleeping in my bed, looking like a little, well, angel, snuggled up to Total.

Well, camper bed for me tonight. And probably camper bed for me until I can clean those sheets. Eww, they must smell like dog.

I curse under my breath as my phone beeps, telling me that I have a message. Who on Earth would send me a message at…?

_Ohh_ snap.

**_From Fang:_**

_lissa's a nice girl_

_'Night gf_

I tiptoe back out of my room, steam practically coming out of my ears, and bump straight into Ella.

"Excellent," I say, and she backs away, slightly afraid. _Awww_. "How about that makeover?"

**Now, you guys, apart from PLEASE REVIEW! and I PROMISE MORE FANG/FAXNESS IN THE NEXT CHAPTER, DON'T SHOOT! alone with I STILL (DON'T) OWN MAXIMUM RIDE I'd like to say do you know any good book series I could read? I've got the whole summer ahead of me and no more _Percy Jackson_, or _Maximum Ride_, or _The Mortal Instruments_... (or _Harry Potter_... *wipes tear*) I'm stuck. Any suggestions? Since you're here I trust your judgement :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**So, I was all like: 'I'm going to answer the reviews to this chapter' and then I got 26!**

**WHEN WILL THE AWESOMENESS CEASE?**

**But, since I don't have time to put all 26 names here, just know that you **_**have **_**been noticed. You are our only hope. The only exception. 'insertnamehere' the awesome.**

**And a while ago, someone asked why not to a Fang POV chapter. Well, maybe at the end. Because that sort of takes away the 'WHAT THE HECK IS FANG THINKING' component away, doesn't it?**

**Aha, I'm evil, I know.**

**But ya'll love me.**

**... Right?**

Chapter 6

Oh God.

I'm already regretting this.

It's Wednesday after school and Nudge and Ella have dragged me to the nearest mall. Along with Gazzy and Angel, who my mom insisted that I should take care of today, because she's busy, and so on and so on…

A recipe for disaster.

"You'd look great in this," Nudge says, holding up a small sequined skirt.

"Um… anything more… subtle?" I ask hopefully.

Nudge pouts, but puts it back.

"This is boring," the Gasman says, wrinkling his nose. "I saw some _bras_." He says it as if he had seen someone throw up into a see-through pot. Then again, he _is_ an eight-year-old boy. I can't exactly blame him.

"You should get a tutu," Angel says helpfully, squeezing my hand as she tries to go on tiptoes, probably on the lookout for something pink.

"I don't think so, lamby," I say, trying to push the mere idea of me in a tutu out of my mind.

"This?" Nudge asks next, holding up a Hello Kitty shirt for me to see. I raise my eyebrows.

"Do you really that I'd _ever_ wear that?" I ask her in all seriousness. As Nudge tries to think, Gazzy wrinkles his nose again.

"It's too pink," Gazzy adds. "Max dresses like a guy. Maybe we should go and check the guy stuff."

Oh, joy. I dress like a guy.

Ella giggles and I scowl at her.

"I want to look at dinosaurs!" Gazzy says, starting to get impatient. I hope that he means _toy_ dinosaurs.

"We'll look at dinosaurs after this," I assure him.

"What's this?" Angel asks innocently, holding up a thong. I snatch it away from her and throw it into the rack behind me.

"It's what women like to wear instead of panties," Nudge tells her.

"Ew!" the Gasman exclaims.

"It doesn't look very comfortable," Angel observes.

"Ew!" Gazzy repeats. "Angel, stop being gross!"

"I'm not being gross," Angel says sweetly.

I'm not _completely_ sure, so I can't really take sides.

"You know, I think that we should get you two out of here," I tell Gazzy and Angel. Gazzy nods enthusiastically.

"I want to go home," he says. "Iggy and I were going to blow up…" I raise an eyebrow. "…a balloon," he finishes stealthily.

"Total is going to feel lonely," Angel adds.

"But we can't leave!" Nudge says. "We need to find Max a new outfit!"

"But that's boring!" Gazzy says as Angel lets go of my hand.

"Tell me about it," I mutter.

"But it's an emergency," Nudge insists. I frown at her. "Max is a girl. She can't go around looking like a guy."

"She doesn't look like a guy!" Gazzy says, frowning.

Nudge frowns back.

"Uh… you just said that she did."

"Oh… yeah. Well, Max, you don't look like a guy. You look like a girl. You look like Megan Fox. CAN WE GO NOW?" I'm not completely sure what do about the 'Megan Fox' comment. Iggy is most probably to blame. As for how he knows what Megan Fox looks like, well, that's probably down to Fang. Anyways, I'll add him onto the list of people that I need to have a serious talk with. But, in the meantime, it's a compliment, and I'm gonna take it, thank you very much.

"Not until we're found at least _one_ outfit!" Nudge repeats.

"How about this one?"

We all turn around to see Angel holding up a denim skirt and a black shirt. Nothing too fancy, but different. And I wouldn't have to leave the comfort of my denim…

Nudge looks at the outfit uneasily.

"You have to promise to put it on for school tomorrow..." she says.

Whoa, this isn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be! I mean, I was convinced that they'd have me in a mini dress after the hour.

"You could also wear these," Angel adds, showing me some bright pink leggings. Not exactly my style, but…

"Done," I say to Nudge, taking the clothes off of Angel gratefully. The little fashion guru. We share a secret smile before I turn to Gazzy, who just looks generally defeated. "We can go now." His expression lights up. "But not before going to McDonalds."

Full-on Gasman smile. Definitely worth it.

xxx

So, the next day, I walk down the school hallway.

You know, same old, same old school hallway, right?

Wrong.

Instead of being ignored and sometimes getting a soccer ball thrown my way (in all friendliness, of course) I get stared at.

"What did you do?" I hiss at Nudge, but she's too busy nodding triumphantly.

"You look like a girl!" she says.

Oh joy.

Wait...

_MISSION ACCOMPLISHED_.

The jocks that normally joke around with me, and treat me like one of them, are staring at me like I'm from a different planet, and girls that hate me just seem to hate me anymore. Heck, they look envious.

It feels pretty cool.

"Max, it's _working_!" Nudge chants, clapping. "And fast, too! I bet you'll have a boyfriend by last period!"

My smile wavers.

See, there's a little problem there.

As previously stated, I don't _want_ a boyfriend.

I want Fang.

Gawd, that will always be hard to admit. I mean, I have to try hard not to pull a face at Nudge and/or start laughing like a maniac. But, I figure, go over it enough times and it will slowly sink in and be less, I dunno, _traumatizing_. Crazy. Unhealthy. Bizarre. Corrupt. Just plain weird.

Anyways.

So, I give a few real-version-of 'Heck yeah' looks to my fellow females with Nudge at my side, and I'm loving it. Then again, I sort of feel uncomfortable.

One part of me, you know, the normal, well known, 'Fang's friend' Max wants her jeans back.

But the other, new 'I-don't-know-what' Max (that we now know is 'has-a-crush-on-boys-and-not-just-any-boys-but-freaking-_FANG'_ Max) is liking all of the attention, and all the guys that want to carry her books.

And now, the final test.

"Hey, Dylan," I say as casually as I possibly can, walking straight past him. Nudge totters after me.

"Oh, you are _so_ in the zone," she tells me in awe. I smile evilly at her, even though my insides are screaming, asking the most important question of all: what does Fang think?

xxx

So, naturally, after soccer it's _my_ turn to be the stalker.

OK, that came off strangely, but hey, love makes you do crazy things.

And I did _not_ just think that.

Anyways.

I have to admit that I was a _little_ _bit_ disappointed when he didn't come to 'show support'. Though it probably would have been pointless because I can't wear a skirt during practice, but whatevs.

I know where he is – Iggy's house. And I need to talk to Iggy. So there. Perfectly normal run-in between three friends.

Right?

I should really stop being so sure of myself.

So, I get there and for some reason, Ella and Nudge are standing _outside Iggy's house_. So, putting my Fang-stalking duties aside, I get a bit closer, hide behind a car (… no comment) and listen in on what they have to say. I mean, Ella and Nudge not telling me 'the secret' kind of forces me to do this stuff, so…

"…You've just got to get it over and done with," Nudge is saying.

"Why now?" Ella demands.

"Because we know that he's here."

"What if Max comes over? Then I'm screwed."

OK. Creepy, much, little sister?

"Max won't mind," Nudge insists. "Besides, this doesn't have anything to do with her. This is between _you_ and…"

The owner of the car I'm leaning on decides to come over. I know that he owns the car because he points a key at it and the locks beep open. I curse under my breath. My stalking is pretty suckish.

So, I try to switch cars without being seen, but I lose the rest of the conversation, which is very annoying to say the least.

I strain to hear, but I don't like the way this conversation has been going. So, I decide to take now to appear.

"Ella! Nudge? What are you guys doing here?"

I try to sound surprised.

Ella blinks various times in surprise, and then looks at Nudge.

"Max!" Nudge says. "What a coincidence! Are you lost too?"

Ella's frown gives them away, but I play along.

"Lost? Nah, I'm just here to visit Ig. I've got to ask him a few things." Like how well he knows my little half-sister.

Ella and Nudge share a preoccupied glance.

_Yeah, don't think I know. I am Max, all-powerful, all-knowing, good-looking goddess of awesome._

I mean, it's not like anything was going to be between Ella and Iggy's mom.

"Oh, Iggy lives here?" Ella tries weakly, but then sighs. "Come on, Nudge."

I watch as they walk away, thinking, 'Oh, yeah, walk away! As if we are _not_ going to talk about this later!'

But then I turn to look at Iggy's house. It's one of those tall, narrow places. A lot like Iggy himself.

_Come on, Max, goddess of awesome._

I climb the stairs and knock on the door, as if by fate (... forget I mentioned fate. That's stupid) Fang is the one who opens.

Point 1 to Max the Stalker.

At first, he has a questioning look on his face, as if to say: 'Who is this chick?'

And then his mouth drops open.

For like, a milisecond, but hey, this is Fang we're talking about.

Point 2 to Max the awesome.

"Max?" he asks, as if he's not completely sure. "What are you wearing?"

And then, I say something really witty, like, "Clothes."

"I can see that," he answers in a monotone.

Now it's my time to frown. What? No offering to hold my books?

Oh, wait...

A silence, and then, "You're wearing a skirt."

I want to say, 'are you going to let me in or what?', but I decide to wait and see where this is going.

And then we do that really cool thing where we read each others minds. Except, it's not really cool because we both happen to recall when I shot at him the words '... _when you throw yourself at everything in a skirt_!'

Ohh crap. Now, I probably seem desperate. Or maybe he'll think it's me stepping up The Game.

I wait in (really annoying) suspense until he does the same thing he did on Saturday night.

(Don't get your hopes up - not the nearly-kissing thing)

He smiles.

Translation = _Game on_. Or _well played_. Take your pick. I like both. Either way:

Point 3 to Max.

Ah, but of course, everything gets totally screwed.

Fang's face falls, and there's a voice from behind me.

"Hey, Max."

Arg, that voice. I really don't like that voice.

"Fang, you ready for our date?

I look at Fang, see something I'm not familiar with in his eyes before I turn to Bridgid, without much time to plaster a fake smile on my face. So I do it while she's watching.

Something seems to go 'DING' in her brain, like, 'OMG all of her smiles towards me are fake!'

If I were still in the mood, I'd be all 'Point 4 to Max'. But I'm not. So I'm not.

"Fang? You leaving?" Iggy's voice comes out from inside.

_Yeah, Fang_, I think. _You leaving_?

"Yup, but I'm coming in!" I call in. As I push past my (still?) best friend, he grabs my arm, and once again we do the 'cool' mind reading thing.

He says,

_Sorry_.


	7. Chapter 7

**HELLO AWESOME READERS!**

**I've taken a while to update because I've got a cold. In summer.**

**YEAAAHHHH**

**This chapter took me twice as long because, for some reason, I type 'good' instead of 'cool', and that's really bizarre and annoying and I think that I'm going to go to sleep now…**

**Iggy: WAKE UP! I need to see if I'm not blind yet!**

**Me: Oops, OK! I'm up! ... Wait, what?**

**Iggy: Yeah. In every other fic, I can see. So, fix me.**

**Me:... Um...**

**Iggy: You _are_ going to fix me, right?**

**Me: ... ... ...**

**Random!: someone (_Palmspringz! _Yeah, you! :D) described my story as '****AWESOMESAUSE mixed with homemade chocolate chip cookies, rainbows, unicorns, and sprite, baked into a cake, shaped like a puppy, iced with frosting from a cloud, and sprinkled with the laughter of kittens (purell-ified of course), and topped with a bedazzled rubber duck.****'**

**Which is just, so cool, in case you didn't know.**

**Iggy: You're changing the subject!**

**Me: *acts like I didn't hear anything* Oh, and Dylan is a little OOC because I haven't read _Fang_ yet. I just know that he's blond and perfect and GETS IN THE WAY OF FAX. Therefore, HE MUST DIE.**

**Jk, this isn't a murder fic.**

**… Or _is_ it?**

**Sorry, no more snap judgments from me. I mean, I might read _Fang_ and like Dylan more than Fang.**

**LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL**

**Hope you like this chapter! :D**

**Iggy: I don't. *blind person death glare***

Chapter 7

"Max?" Iggy frowns as I walk into the kitchen. "What are you doing here?"

I won't pretend that I'm not hurt.

"What, so I can't come over to see my best friend?" I ask him, sitting in front of him. He looks thoughtful.

"Does this have anything to do with Fang avoiding you?"

_Now_ I definitely won't pretend that I'm not surprised.

"Avoiding…? No. Actually, I need to have a serious talk with you."

Iggy groans.

"Oh, no. What did I do to deserve this?"

I push whatever went on between Fang and me a second ago away and get down to business.

"I'm not sure. But I know that it has _something_ to do with my sister."

I raise an eyebrow, even though it's wasted on him. Either way, I think he got the point.

"You and Fang haven't been avoiding each other at all, have you?" he asks, looking outraged. "You've just both been scheming behind my back!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I say. "I don't scheme. Schemes suck." … What? "And, Fang and I haven't been avoiding each other. So quit changing subject and spill."

"There's nothing _to_ spill," he insists. "You and Fang are just paranoid. I don't like Ella, OK?"

"I'm raising my eyebrows, Ig. _You and Ella_ are the ones that have been avoiding each other, and don't think that I don't know!"

"You don't know, because you just made that up," Iggy says. "I hardly ever see your sister anyways. And don't think that I don't know that there isn't something going on between you and Fang. I'd say that I'm not blind, but… anyways. The fact that a _blind guy_ can see it…"

"Oh, now _you're_ just making things up!" I protest, my cheeks turning red. But he's not.

"No, I'm not," Iggy says calmly. Even though my scowl is wasted on him, I scowl anyways.

"Well, then I'm not making stuff up either."

Iggy grins. "But you are."

"Then so are you."

Iggy's grin dies.

"Now you're just being annoying."

"What is this?" I suddenly ask loudly. Iggy raises an eyebrow. "What kind of friends are we if we cannot be completely honest with each other? When did our relationship become so _fractured_?"

"Um… Never."

I ignore him. "We used to be the kind of friends that told each other everything, that knew _everything_ about each other…"

"Still no."

"And then something happened. Something that broke our relationship into tiny little pieces-"

"Please stop using the word 'relationship'."

"And now people get between us. _Girls_ get between us. And that, Ig, is not acceptable. I just want things to go back to normal, and that we can be completely honest with ourselves, and each other, again," I finish, and look at Iggy expectantly, purposefully forgetting all the rude interruptions, for his own sake.

He looks in my general direction and stares at me blankly. OK, super blankly.

"You do realize that your speech is better implicated towards Fang, right?"

I frown at him. "Pft," I say waving my hand. "_No_…"

"OK, drop the act." I drop my hand and look at him, startled. "I know that you two have this bizarre little _thing_ in which you try to flirt each other into having red cheeks. Not that I could see red cheeks, but…"

He trails off, and yes, my cheeks are turning red. But from anger.

"He _told_ you?"

"Well, _duh_," Iggy says nonchalantly. "What kind of friends are we if we can't be honest with each other? We're the kind of friends that tell each other everything, that know _everything_ about each other…"

"Shut up," I snap.

I can't believe this. Fang told Iggy. I mean, come on! I thought that Fang and I had come to a non-verbal agreement that it was a secret game! Just goes to show.

"Now, don't get snappy with me," Iggy says. "I mean, it's obvious that you two are-"

"Don't even finish that sentence," I warn. A coy grin appears on Iggy's face, and he waves it away with a pale hand.

"Well, anyways, I guess that the real question is: what happened on Tuesday?"

I look at him, bewildered.

"Huh?"

"Well, Fang was hanging around your place forever, to annoy you, but then on Tuesday he stopped."

Oh yeah, he did, didn't he?

WAIT A SECOND.

Oh, I'll tell you what happened on Tuesday! I _happened_ to fight back! And it worked, probably!

Or maybe it didn't. Maybe Fang decided that it was too awkward, and just gave up. I mean, I haven't seen him for two days. I only saw him today because I stalked – uh, I mean, _found_ him.

And now he's with Bridgid. In other words, not with me.

I'm completely overreacting. I mean, this is just a game to him. And… well, it could be a game to me, right?

Nope. Because I'm an idiot, and I had to get my hopes up, have a crush on my best friend, wear a freaking _skirt_…

OK, this week is gaining itself a twenty-two on the suck scale. Yeah. _That_ suckish.

Suddenly, Iggy gets up and walks towards the oven. I watch him carefully as he brings out a tray of freshly baked cookies.

"Why are you baking?" I ask carefully. Iggy shrugs.

"I've got nothing else to do."

"Was _Fang_ helping you bake?"

Iggy pulls a face.

"God, no. He'd probably poison them or something."

I frown.

"Fang would poison your cookies," I repeat.

"Yeah, he's in vile mood. He keeps on punching things. It's only a matter of time before he punches me…" he then adds quietly, but I ignore him.

Ah. I'd be lying if I said that my interest isn't peaked.

"What kind of things?" I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.

Iggy shrugs.

"Mostly walls… _wait_." He stops. "If I were a good guy friend I wouldn't be telling you this."

"Well, you could be a good guy friend to me…" I try.

Iggy puts the tray on the counter.

"Um… no."

"What? That's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair."

Well, that shuts me up. I hate it when Iggy pulls out the 'life isn't fair, meaning I'm blind, meaning _shut up'_ card.

"Well… can I have a cookie?"

xxx

I love how that, in TV shows (that Ella watches… not me… pft), this happens all the time. And the main characters go to school, just like: 'Yeah, I'm chilling at school, when I get home my drama can start again' like, _all is well_.

All is _not_ freaking well.

What, so grown-ups expect us to actually pay attention in class when, for all they know, we could be having the biggest crisis of our young lives?

Once again, I thank God that Fang and Iggy don't go to the same school as me anymore.

But then again, God – if he's up there and all – but be laughing at me right now because, guess who _does_ go to the same school as me?

"Hey, Dylan, where are you going?"

"I'll catch up with you guys later."

And we have a winner.

But, for once, I'm glad that I'm so good at pretending that I didn't hear that, and glad to see Nudge saying, "Max, what are you _wearing_?"

I frown at her, walk towards her, and also walking away from Dylan, Mr. Perfect, the 'hottest guy in school'… whatever.

"The outfit we bought," I say.

"But your leggings… they're ripped."

I look down.

"Oh yeah," I say, pretending that I only just noticed that, and that I didn't do that last night. See, I've Maxed-out my outfit. So sue me.

"And… what about the converse?"

"I like Dr. Martens more," I confide, looking down at my black boots fondly. They're perfect for stomping in. Plus, they make me tall and help me out on my ever-lasting struggle to keep Nudge from putting me in high heels.

Shudder.

"It's awesome," Nudge then breathes. I frown. Well, I didn't expect that. I mean, I kind of expected Nudge to shout at me or something. You know, go all crazy so that her curly hair would stick up and go crazy too. Yeah, so I'm feeling rebellious and pissed off. And Nudge isn't going to play along.

Oh well. Internal shrug.

"Max?"

I cringe before turning around. There stands Dylan, in all of his perfect glory.

But I didn't just think that.

"Yup?"

Nudge nudges me. (Hehehe) Oh, so now she wants me to _talk_ like a girl too? Aha, _not_ going to happen.

"I was wondering if I could, uh… talk to you in private. Maybe later, though, because I'm late for class and the guys are staring at me like I'm from another planet, which is sort of uncomfortable."

I smile. Sorry, can't help it. I mean, he's adorable too?

"Sure," I say, trying not to sound like a complete idiot. I think I pass.

_Yeah_.

Dylan smiles with (did I mention perfect?) white teeth before going off to see 'the guys'.

Nudge nudges me again. (Sorry, I still find that funny.)

"Maaaaaaaaax," she says. "He's _totally_ going to ask you out!"

My cheeks heat up. Is it possible for your cheeks to heat up, but to not turn red? If so, _fingers crossed_.

Anyways.

"Don't be ridiculous. He probably just wants to talk about…" _thinkthinkthink_ "football."

Nudge giggles.

"Suuuuure. _Football_."

Then she gasps.

"Oh my god I'm late for class!"

"OK… then leave," I suggest, and she's off.

I sigh and roll my eyes, also trying to hide a smile.

And then it all settles in.

OK, Dylan is most definitely going to ask me out. Which is… good?

No, no, no, no, no, it's not good. I mean, what about Fang?

_What about him?_

Ooh, the Voice is back! You know, that horrible, nagging voice that appears in the most frustrating of times just to piss me off. Yeah, that one.

_Fang has Bridgid. You have Dylan. And then it won't have to be awkward because you'll both have someone else and then it will all go back to normal_.

Hmm. The Voice has a good point.

Wait, what am I saying?

The Voice is pure _evil_. I mean, it's the same Voice that made me fill that one babysitter's glass of water with water from the pond, which was, uh, disgusting. I mean, Jeb grounded me for a week.

_But you know I'm talking sense..._

**Non**sense, more like it.

The Voice is quiet.

Wow, it's annoying when it does that.

I bang my head on my locker door.

When _I_ do that. It's my freaking voice. It's like, the bizarre, stupid, daring part of me.

And it _is_ talking sense.

The corridor is empty. I should probably be in class. Sure, if I stand near my locker for long enough and open it when someone comes past, they'll probably just think that I forgot a book and I'm out to get it back.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I jump.

I bring it out and read a text.

_From: Fang_

_School gates_

If it were from anyone else, meaning someone that's not Fang, I would probably stare at it for ages with a 'huh?' look on my face, thinking 'What the cranoodle is this?' (Cranoodle... _Yes_, I'm trying to see if it will catch on.)

But, since this is Fang we're talking about, I know that he's waiting for me at my school gates to skip class.

And, since this is me we're talking about, I do it happily.

xxx

I'm super sneaky. Like a ninja.

And climbing over a fence in a skirt is not a good idea. Ever.

As soon as I jump down, I look around. No Fang. Annoying much?

"Hi," says a voice from behind me.

"Holy Cranoodle!" I say, spinning around. Fang's eyes are laughing at me. Which is pretty bad. "Don't do that!"

"Cranoodle?" he asks, ignoring me. "I'm pretty sure that's not a real word."

"Sure it is!" I say. "Crap plus noodle, have you been living under a rock for the past year?"

He gives me one of his 'WTF' looks and _that's_ when I realize how much I've really missed him.

And then it gets awkward, and then I talk to break the tension.

"So, what are you doing here?"

Shrug.

"I didn't feel like going to school today."

"Hmmm..." I say, looking at him carefully. "I could have been in class, you know?"

Shrug.

"Alright then," I say, clapping my hands together. "What's the plan."

And he starts walking. Way to be enigmatic.

Oh, and please don't worry. There is this whole war in my brain. _Is this a date? Is he going to try and flirt with me? Or are we being friends again? That would be so awesome. And then again, it wouldn't be. Or maybe you just need to hang out with him in a friendly way. Maybe the flirting, the **everything** messed with your head! Maybe it's all in your head! Maybe he doesn't hate you, either. Maybe you're just both really good friends. Maybe you went crazy, and now you're all better. Maybe that's an awesome idea. Maybe that's too good to be true. Oh well, I'm taking it._

Props for Max Wars, please.

Anyways.

So, basically, all we do is walk through the city, talking about stuff. OK, I'm lying. I talk about stuff. Occasionally he nods, and sometimes he says 'Yeah' or 'That's stupid'.

I feel so badass for skipping school. But, I don't need Fang to know that, because then I won't come off as cool.

Wait a second - we're bffs! I don't care what I come off as!

"I feel so badass," I say. Fang smirks.

I know why _he's_ skipping school. He really hates his mom. I'd like to say differently, but I think she really hates him too. That's why we never hang out at his place. It's always mine or Iggy's.

"Let's watch a movie," he says suddenly, pointing towards the cinema we're walking past. I blink and then stare at him.

"What, why?"

Shrug.

"Like... on a date?"

OK. That has to be the stupidest thing I've ever said. But I'm probably just paranoid, right? I mean, I'm not secretly hoping that he says _yes_, because we're best friends again now.

He smiles teasingly. I try not to feel my cheeks heat up. I like Fang's smiles, I really do. It's the context that I'm not too fond of.

And then he takes my hand and leaves my question unanswered, pulling us into the movie house.

Well, way to TORTURE MY BRAIN INTO INSANITY, Fang. Props for you.

Meaning _props of death_. Props that will hopefully kill him.

Hopefully.

Then my phone buzzes in my pocket again. As a reflex, I bring it out of my pocket and answer.

"Nudge, what do you want?"

Fang stiffens and stops moving, but doesn't let go of my hand.

DIE, BUTTERFLIES! LEAVE ME IN PEACE!

Uh...

"Dylan's looking for you," Nudge tells me. "Where _are_ you?"

"Um..." I look at Fang for help, but he's as stiff (and as helpful) as a statue. "About," I finally say.

"Well, come _back_! Are you forgetting the whole, 'hottest guy in the school' thing? Don't blush, even you know it." I pull a face as I realize that Dylan's probably standing right next to her.

Fang sets his jaw. Can he _hear_?

Oh, awkward much?

"I'm..." I look at Fang again for help, but, once again, not helpful at all. "I'll talk to him on Monday," I finally say. "I'm sick, and I'm at home."

Fang's phone rings. He lets go of my hand (... which doesn't affect me, at all... I mean, why would it?) and answers it.

"Yo," he says. My turn to stiffen. Who's calling him? "No, I'm not at school." Laugh.

Holy cranoodle, why is he laughing? Who's making him laugh?

OK, I know the answer.

"Actually," I say loudly, "Tell Dylan I'll meet him after school."

Fang stiffens again - boy, we must be fun to watch - and glares at me. You know, in a Fang way.

"Sure, Bridgid," he says, looking right at me. "I'll see you this afternoon."

"Yup," I say into the phone, glaring at Fang. "After school. OK. Tell him I'll see him then."

"Alright. Yup. See you then. Bye."

We both hang up, put out phones in our pockets and glare at each other.

Fang is the one who finally speaks. (I know, weird, right?)

"You're _impossible_."

And he marches away and I want to cry.

* * *

><p><strong>Aha, you guys, WHAT IS FANG THINKING? What's going through his brain? Is he <em>insane<em>? (*in sing-song voice:* I know and you don't, I know and you don't) Anyways. Poor Max.**

**OK, random: are any of you on deviantart? Inkpop?**

**Alright, SORRY for the random bit. Don't report me because that was completely random. In fact, it's so harmless I don't know why I'm asking you to not report it. _Pft_.**

**But this next bit actually matters.**

**Would any of you be interested in a 'sequel' thing? (Suggested by _ObsessiveReader1223_… Hi!) It would be the same story, but in Fang's POV. I think that it would be pretty awesome. But that's just me. Also, I think that it's kind of necessary. Because I know that Fang isn't a jerk, but, uh, you guys don't. Because he sure is acting like one. The sequel would give me a chance to show you guys the inner turmoil, and then you guys could feel sorry for him, and not hate him anymore! How does that sound? Pretty good, huh?**

**Oh, and also: I COMPLETELY (DO NOT) OWN MAXIMUM RIDE. I MEAN, I'M REALLY (NOT) RICH FROM THE MONEY THAT I'M (NOT) GETTING OFF OF THESE BOOKS THAT ARE (NOT) MINE.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Heeeey!**

**Holy cranoodle you guys are awesome! And I'm glad that you like my word! Use it in your daily lives! Spread the word, like I did 'shi-skebab'! (I say it when I nearly say the other, less nice word beginning with shi- :D)**

**Heeeeey, anyone else find Angel completely and totally annoying in 'Max'? 'Cause I understood Nudge, and felt sorry for her, and she came back in the end. But Angel was just SO FRIGGING ANNOYING. I was just, 'quit being small and annoying and actually do what Max says!' Gaaah. She annoyed me so much.**

**OK: here's the next chapter!**

Chapter 8

Don't you just hate it when Nudge is right?

I mean, I do. But that's mostly because the things that she's right about tend to be pretty annoying, and torturous, and life changing, and did I mention annoying?

"Hey, Max," Dylan smiles as I walk up to him. He has football practice in a few minutes, so he's all geared-out and looks even more American-prince-esq than usual.

"Hi." I'm still fuming from my meeting with Fang. The desire to cry had dispersed on the way back to school, and now I just really wanted to punch Fang's face out.

Same old, same old.

"So, I was talking with Lissa, and she said that you had a… boyfriend?"

Oh. Oops.

"Yeah," I say before I can stop myself. "I mean, Lissa things like that says."

Dammit! Now I just sound like a certain little, old, green alien that we all know.

Dylan raises his eyebrows, looking genuinely confused. And I can't exactly blame him.

"No, I'm not dating anyone."

"So, that guy on the stands was just…?"

Oh, that's how he's going to play it, huh?

"You've certainly done your homework," I say, impressed. Even though that is a totally odd, unlike me thing to say! Ew, I don't even like myself anymore.

And we call _Fang_ the emo… _Craaaaaaap_.

"No, he's not my boyfriend," I say, putting a hand to my head. "And please excuse my weird behavior. I've had an odd week. Not that I'm saying that I'm not weird pretty much all of the time," I then add.

Which is a great way to get guys, guys. (Haha, guys guys.)

Oh, and it's probably not. I wouldn't listen to me.

_If I had a choice._

"Oh. OK," Dylan says, still looking confused.

I sigh. I probably can't make this any worse for myself.

"So, what do you want?"

I know, I know, I'm as polite as, oh, let's say, an _ape_.

"Well," Dylan starts, scratching his head absently. "I was wondering if you'd like to, uh… go out with me. Like, on a date?"

Ohh snap.

xxx

"So, what did _you_ say?" Angel asks, rocking to and fro, her legs crossed. She's sitting on my bed, looking at me in all seriousness. She doesn't even look the tiniest bit cute.

OK, I'm lying, she _always_ looks cute. But now she looks pretty serious.

"You didn't say yes, did you Max?" she asks, her blue eyes accusing me of a crime that seems to be way worse than one I _might_ have committed. "Because you're not supposed to marry Dylan, you're supposed to marry Fang, and _I'm_ supposed to be the bridesmaid. And Total is going to wear a tutu," she then adds. The small scotty, as if actually _understanding_ the conversation, winces and jumps out of Angel's arms and onto the floor.

"Listen, lamby, I'm sorry, but things don't always turn out like you want them to," I say as I pull my boots off and toss them onto the floor. "You can't always get what you want."

Also, why does that song come into my head every time someone says that?

"Yes they do," she says.

I freeze and stare at her. To be honest, she's kind of freaking me out.

"Uh, no, sweetie," I say, sitting on my camping bed. "They don't."

Angel crosses her arms over her chest.

"But they do for _me_!"

Whoa. My little angel is turning into a little diva.

I pull a face.

"So, you _want_ Fang and I to get married?"

Gah! I said the words 'Fang', 'I' _and_ 'married' in the same sentence.

_I'm going insane!_

Angel nods enthusiastically.

"And have kids."

"WHOA!"

That's new.

She ignores me and carries on.

"You love him, and he loves you, so…"

Oh, god, not this again.

Oh, _again_, you ask?

Well, every time Angel comes over, she insists the same thing. Sure, so the _me_ loving _him_ is totally new, and I must say, I'm shocked and stunned, but the _him_ loving _me_… well, that's been going on for a while.

According to Angel, of course.

"When are you going to listen to me, Max?" she asks, her blue eyes wide, and, to be completely honest, kind of pissed.

"Probably never," I admit as Total sniffs at my boots. He recoils, so let's just say that they don't smell like peaches.

And that is one picky dog.

_What? Not the right kind of disgusting odor for you?_

Anyways.

"You and Fang are supposed to be together forever," she insists. Wow, she is just _not_ going to let it drop tonight, is she? "You just have to give him a chance, Max. He'd be a great boyfriend."

She gets all dreamy-eyed, an expression that I find kind of strange but also kind of amusing at the same time.

"Alright, sweetheart," I whisper, turning off the bedside light that I've had to move by my camper bed, because Angel and Total seem to like my bed better.

Turning off the lights work like a charm with Angel. I mean, she immediately falls asleep.

It's great.

But I love her and stuff, though.

I really do.

xxx

"Holy cranoodle!"

"Could you please stop saying that?"

I glare at Iggy.

"I'll stop _saying_ that when people stop sneaking up on me! What did you do, just let yourself in?"

"Well," he starts, taking a deep breath, "I thought that we were at that point in our friendship in which-"

"OK, I get it, shut up."

He grins at me and plops himself down onto the sofa, next to me.

"So, where is everyone?" he asks.

"Are you kidding?" I ask him. "It's Saturday morning. Everyone's asleep."

Iggy frowns.

"I thought that it was twelve in the morning," he says, confused.

"It is," I answer, not quite getting his point. I only got up a few minutes ago. Good thing I sleep in underwear and a t-shirt, huh?

Oh, wait…

I look at Iggy, but he's as blind as ever. And, hopefully oblivious to my outfit. I decide to bring my bowl of cereal a bit closer to me anyways, just in case.

He shakes his head.

"Whatever… Wait!" he jumps up from the sofa, and I look at him. "That means Ella's here?"

"Well, she lives here, so yeah."

Iggy starts tapping his leg with his fingers nervously.

"Ig?" I ask, confused. "Is something wrong?"

"I lied to you," he mutters.

"Hm?" I ask.

"I lied to you," he says louder.

"Oh," I say, still not completely sure of what he's talking about. "Well, you shouldn't have done that."

"Hey, it's not my fault! I suck at these kinds of things."

He puts his head in his hands and I stare at him.

"Ok, Ig, I'm sorry, but I have no idea of what you're talking about."

He sighs.

"It's Ella."

"Oh!" I exclaim in realization. "Oh," I then say, in _real_ realization. "OH!" I say again, in really real realization. "Oh-"

"Stop it!" Iggy snaps, only to look – or rather, _hear_ around to see if he'd woken anyone up.

"_Oh_," I whisper. Not completely sure if I did that to annoy him, or because I'm still gob smacked. Probably a little bit of both. And probably more of the 'to annoy him' part. "So, you like her?"

"Well, _duh_ I like her."

I shrug. Well, that was easy.

Then Iggy propped up.

"Wait! I hear voices." He coughed loudly. "So, you're dating Dylan now?"

If he had said it any louder, I would be deaf right now.

"Max?"

Ella is standing in the doorway, and Iggy looks triumphant.

"Oh, hi Ig," Ella says. Ella is always (clever) lucky enough to always get dressed as soon as she wakes up in the mornings. Well, at least she has bed hair.

"Hello," Iggy says cheerfully. Ella turns back to me.

"Max?" she says again.

"Yup?" I ask innocently. Ella raises her eyebrows.

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

Ella puts her hands on her hips.

"Are you dating Dylan?"

"_No_," I say, waving my hand. "Pft. That's ridiculous. I'm dating Fang…"

"No you're not," Ella says. Dammit.

"Wow, that Lissa girl was telling the truth," Iggy whispers. I turn my head. "You seem to spout out that you and Fang are dating when you're in tight spots, huh?"

"_No_… Well, of course I do!"

"Max, you're acting weird," Ella informs me.

"Your _face_ is acting weird," I say immediately.

Oh god, I _am_ going insane.

"This is fun," Iggy says cheerily. Well, isn't he chipper this morning?

"Are you dating Dylan or not?" Ella insists.

"I… don't see what it is to you," I manage.

"What? So if I started dating Iggy it wouldn't be anything to you?"

Iggy stops smiling and stares at Ella, and Ella turns red.

"I mean… uh… answer then!"

Oh, sure, refocus the attention back to me.

"Well… Iggy isn't Dylan!"

"Thank you," Iggy mutters sarcastically under his breath.

"Max, why are you being so weird about telling us?"

_Oh, and **I'm** supposed to know?_

"Because she _actually_ wants to date Fang," Iggy smirks. My immediate reaction is to thump him in the arm. "Ow!"

"OK, fine," I say, "You got me."

They both look at me – well, Iggy sort of looks at me, you know… These Iggy clarifications are getting really annoying!

"I'm going on a date tonight, with Dylan. But we're not _dating_! That's it. We're going to dinner and a movie. _That's_ it."

Ella stares at me. Iggy pulls a face.

"Really?" Ella finally says.

I nod. It feels like the nod of shame.

For some totally unknown reason.

"You idiot," Iggy says. That earns him another thump.

"Max, he's sort of right," Ella says, finally moving from the doorway and into the arm chair next to us.

Cranoodle, now Ella was teaming up against me! With _Iggy_!

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask her, feeling betrayed.

"It's supposed to mean that-"

"Iggyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" the Gasman yells, running up to our sofa and pouncing on my blind, wounded friend.

Ella bites her lip, looks at me and then gets up.

"I'm going to have breakfast."

"Iggy, you have to see what I did last night! It was _so cool_!" the Gasman says, jumping off of Ig and pulling him off of the sofa.

"With pleasure," Iggy says, looking in my general direction as if to say 'because if I have any more girl talk I'll probably sprout pigtails and most likely explode'.

Well, _well done Max._

You are once again friendless.

**... What I said last time at a lack of Faxness. MAJOR SUPER DUPER Faxness in the next chapter. And a load of angst. Sorry guys, I can't have Faxness without angst and a poor, confused Max!**

**:P**

**Heeheehee.**

**Please review, the faxness with come faster!**

**(... And that's not blackmail...)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hehehe, you guys really want the Faxness, huh? Well, I did warn you- Wait, no I didn't. OK, I'm warning you right here, right now.**

**ANGSTANGSTANGST**

**XD**

**Angst makes me lol**

**And that's really weird…**

Chapter 9

So, I don't know what to wear on my… _date_.

I know, I know, I'm turning into a real teenage girl.

But, seeing as Ella has disappeared for the day, probably at Nudge's, and I'm not desperate enough to go there (nor have I forgiven Ella for being less-than-happy about me getting a date, after she's spent the past year insisting that Dylan and I would be a perfect couple… I know, right? The nerve…), I find myself showing Angel my options. And this is hard, seeing as she has her arms crossed and her bottom lip is sticking out in a totally adorable, totally pissed off way.

"Just wear what you're wearing now," she mumbles, unfolding her arms and reaching out to pull Total onto the bed (_My_ bed). Seems like I'm not going to get much input from her, and she's being _extremely_ unhelpful because I'm back in my beloved jeans and t-shirt.

"Max!" Mom calls from the hallway. "There are people at the door for you!"

My first reaction is: what the heck is Dylan doing _here_?

My second one is: duh, stupid, Dylan isn't a 'people'

My third one is, beyond a doubt, the most logical: Who's looking for me?

My fourth one is: an hour before my date. This better be quick.

I'm only _not_ ashamed by the third one.

I don't _want_ to be a girl! They'll never take me alive!

OK.

I look at Angel, who's won. I am in but (at least they're skinny) jeans and a (at least it's clean) tanktop. And I have a feeling that I'm not going to be coming back any time soon, so I brush my hair and pull it up into a ponytail. Not a hair-scraped-back-with-a-number-of-products ponytail, but a nice, elegant, free ponytail, with strands of my hair being all wavy and pretty.

It's pretty cool when my hair decides to cooperate when it's supposed to. I mean, it mostly only ever looks acceptable when I'm staying at home for the day.

Not that I care, though…

I stop dead as soon as I see who's in the doorway, a reaction I probably should not have, seeing as I've known him forever and all.

"Fang, you're not people."

Smooth.

"Iggy came over to show the Gasman something explosive."

"Oh," I say, frowning at him. Now, I know this that is all hormones, but Fang leaning on the doorframe like that, half in shadow, his eyes looking directly at me, his hands in his pockets, was ridiculously and _totally_ sex- "And you came over why?" I ask him, interrupting my own thoughts. _Please_. Oh, no, _fail_, because now I just thought 'sex', and if that isn't hormones at its worst, I don't know what is. And I'm not _that_ bad. I think.

So, here goes.

_Fanglookssexy._

GAHHHH.

He stands up straight, completely oblivious to my thoughts (thank GOD), and nods once before saying, "I think that we need to have a talk."

_Oh joy._

xxx

Naturally, we don't stop to chat at home. I tell mom I'm leaving, giving her a 'people my ass, Fang and Iggy are not people and you know it' look (but she just smiles) and leave the apartment with Fang by my side.

It's not like yesterday, when we were completely comfortable, everything else forgotten. Right now, nothing is forgotten. Every little detail of our relationship ever (though the most prominent were the recent events) was out there, you know?

Well, in my head anyways. Fang looks as calm as ever. The only thing I have to comfort me is that I know that he remains calm on the outside at the most perilous of times.

But, by saying that we needed to talk, it meant that he knew that there was a problem, right?

OK, of course there was a problem, the last time we had been alone together he had stomped off and I had ended up with a date.

But, then there was the other, well known fact that, if someone says 'We need to talk' it means that they're going to break up with you.

Well, good thing we're not _actually_ going out.

… Right?

We keep on walking for a while, the sun hasn't gone down yet. It's ten past seven, and I'm meeting Dylan at the restaurant at eight.

In the end we walk into one of those little private park which location I am not going to give you because I'm paranoid about stalkers (In my brain...? SHUT UP, rational thought). OK, I'm paranoid about everything, but stalkers are a good thing to be paranoid about, I suppose...

We sit down on a bench and I shoot a sideways glance at Fang. Does he know about the date? Because if Iggy hasn't told him…

"When's your date?"

Ah. I'm just too good. Maybe I should be a detective. Being a detective must be cool. Right?

"Eight," I say as casually as I can. Then I look at him carefully. "And I'm not going to _not_ go out with him, because you're dating Bridgid, so there."

Aha, smooth _and_ childish. New low, Maxy.

Fang looks at me.

"But I _like_ Bridgid."

On the outside I'm like, POKER FACE, but on the inside I'm basically thinking _stab me with a freaking rusty _knife_, why don't you._

"Do _you_ like Dylan?"

Ouch, _very_ personal, girl-talk sort of question; even though, strangely, I've been asked if I like Fang more often than if I like Dylan, who there's actually a _chance_ of me dating.

I think of Dylan, who's pretty much all-around perfect. What's not to like?

"Yeah."

Fang nods and looks ahead, his poker face at his best. I hope he's all like _stab me with a rusty knife, why don't you _on the inside too.

I know, I'm spiteful like that.

There's a pretty awkward silence in which I couple walks by, hand in hand, and I lean back, trying to seem _über_ comfortable when, really, I'm , uh, not. (Some comma love for ya there!)

"Do you like me?"

WHOA. What? No, dude, you're not supposed to say stuff like that! _You're just not supposed to_!

See, here's a little something about me that I'm going to fill you up on, in case you haven't already picked up on it.

I hate feelings. I mean, I really do. I hate feeling sad, I hate feeling betrayed, I hate feeling… mushy. Heck, I'm not even a big fan on happiness.

And talking about said feelings, well, that sucks too. Times a billion.

But wait, hold the phone! You've been pouring your heart out the past week! Why are you annoyed now?

Well, the answer is simple, inquisitive one.

This week has been the well-known Opposite Week, in which Max tried to be cool (even though she already is, duh), in which Max tried to be – shudder – _sexy_, in which Max confessed to having more-than-friendly feelings for her best friend to her _mother_, in which Max tried to be a girl, and a pretty one at that.

With Fang turning to look at me with his oh-so-attractive eyes, I hope that the opposite week ends, right here, right now, before I blurt anything out, you know, like 'You're the love of my life, the Tigger to my Winnie, the Mickey to my Minnie! And yes, I will marry you!'

Which, uh, I _totally_ wouldn't do anyways… _pft_…

So, I answer tactfully, and I'm pretty proud at how it comes out _without_ the beat of my heart projecting itself into my words…

Meh…

"Do _you_ like me?"

Yeeeeaaaah… Point – what is it? 5? Whatever – Point _5_ to Max 'the girl'. Yus.

For a millisecond, Fang's brick wall dissolves. Since I have super-duper (can't believe I just thought that) senses, I see it.

Point 6 to Max. Why did I stop giving myself points? It's fun and very self-gratifying. Oh, God, I sound like I'm advertising it… _Giving yourself points can be your very own way of self-satisfaction for just the wonderful price of_ (**_AN-a review! Teeheehee_**) _ten dollars ninety-nine!_

Pulling myself out of my mental mental state…

Fang looks worried or _something_ for less than a second, then the brick wall is back.

He turns to me, shaking his head.

"I want to get this right," he says.

Hmm. Another non-answer. So I suppose…

Sigh.

Point 1 to Fang 'the hot'.

Oh, and if you hadn't noticed this either, I tend to spout nonsense when I'm nervous. _Even in my brain._

"Listen, Max," Fang starts. I stare at him… OK, he's won absolutely every last drop of my attention by just saying my name.

Point 2 to Fang the… uh… Do I _have_ to say it again?

Dang it.

Point 2 to _Fangthesexy_.

I take back what I said about self-giving points, because it goes both ways! And now I'm just blushing. But hopefully only in the inside.

Psht. Yeah, right.

"I know that things have been weird with us for a while now…"

"Um, a week isn't a while," I interrupt. I don't know, I feel like I have to. He stares at me, like 'why the flipity fudge did you interrupt my speech as soon as I started?'

And then he says, "A week?"

I frown.

"Well, yeah, a week. You know, since the… incident."

"Which one?"

OK. Please let the whole of last week be a dream! Oh my god, I would be so freaking grateful!

Right?

(OK, I need to stop adding 'right?' on the end of, like, _every sentence_ _I've ever said/thought ever_)

"Oh," Fang says suddenly, remembering. About frigging time. I was getting my hopes up... right? Dang it! "_That_ one. That was my fault."

"Uh, yeah, it was," I say, still frowning at him. His mouth is tugging at a (very hot) half-smile. "You think it's funny?"

"Well, your expression was… no, not at all," he quickly corrects himself. Good. Because I had been about to unleash a great big can of whoop-ass on him. I sure preferred that over this mushy-talky-feelings talk.

"Anyways," he continues, "I'm not stupid, and you're not either. And if what you're going through is the same as what I'm going through, then we're both being pretty stupid, and stubborn."

I'm going to say 'Who are you calling stupid?' But, of course, I don't.

Because I can't.

Because my mouth is wide open.

I close it quickly as soon as I realize.

He's looking at me determinedly, his jaw set. His expression tells me 'Yes, we _are_ going to get this over and done with right now.'

Which makes my big mouth ruin everything, of course.

"Why now?" I ask him. "Why now," I check my watch, "Half an hour before my date?"

He shrugs.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Well, no, it isn't," I say, my cheeks turning red. "Unless _you_ can date whoever you please, pretend that that doesn't affect me in anyway – which is pretty contradictory of you, by the way, Mr 'I know all' – but it's time to have a mushy-feelings-talk before _I_ can date anyone."

"Max-" he starts, but I don't let him.

"And, you're dating someone, whoop-dee-doo, but now you're coming onto _me_? _Me_, Fang. _Max_. I'm not _totally_ weak against your charms-" … _Ignoring that I just said that_… "- like every other girl you just randomly decide to have something with because for some reason all females but me seem to be pretty idiotic, and are all putty in your hands-"

"OK, Max, stop right there," Fang says with a finality that makes me actually shut my mouth. Which is totally unfair, because I had this whole rage-of-feelings-and-connecting-the-dots-to-make-Fang-look-bad rant going on there. He leans forward, and starts to whisper, in a low, husky, totally se- (HORMONES, FOR THE LOVE OF CRANOODLE, FUDGE OFF) voice. "Firstly, you are _not_ every other girl, and I know that. Everyone does. And that's what makes you so special."

He pauses and-

WAIT ONE GOLDANGED SECOND! This better not be a 'game' thing! I hate the game! I had completely forgotten of the game's existence!

Well, way to go, Max. If this is a trap, you've walked straight into it.

"And secondly, this is not because of your date."

I swallow.

"And thirdly… I really _do_ want to kiss you right now."

**Teeheehee, Faxness also ensued for the next chapter... obviously...**

**Oh, and AVPM, anyone? Anyone?**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Oh, my God.

_OK, Max._

_This isn't a joke. This isn't part of the 'game'. Because if it is, you'll probably have to kick Fang's butt, right here and now. And then never ever talk to him again._

_Ever._

_But no, this seems pretty legit. I mean, he's leaning in slowly, inching towards your face, his face at a sort of weird angle so that there's more … what? Oh, damn, you're blabbering on in your head again. I mean, '_seems legit'_? What _are_ you, a Maxdroid?_

_He's going in for a kiss! And, so are you! This is real, Max. No more Maxdroid jokes for you! _

_Just… don't screw this up. OK? Think you can manage that, Max?_

_He's so close… You can smell him. And that's slightly creepy, but… um… he smells nice…_

_Oh, dear, even the blabbering part of your brain is turning into mush. '_He smells nice'_?_

_Sheesh._

_I'M A GONNA REPEAT THIS FOR YA: Do _not_… screw… this…_

"Wait," I breathe.

Well, so much for _that_ more or less _simple_ thought.

Fang stops.

Regrettably.

Well, well done, me. Minus 1 point.

You _douche_!

OK. I can probably fix this. I mean, I could probably kiss him right now, and then everyone would probably forget that I even opened my big mouth for anything that isn't snogging the face off of my best friend (OK, ew. 'Snog'=not a very pretty word.) seeing as we'd both move off to live in an amazing, gigantic pink castle in the clouds, in Disneyland.

_Aaaaalriiiight_.

Let's do this.

"MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAX!"

I take a second to react, because at first I think that it's me shouting at myself in my head. How's that for a weird sentence?

Fang leans away from me to frown into the distance, and I realize that:

1) It wasn't in my head.

2) It's a child's voice.

Wouldn't be allowed out, and anyways, I'm betting on Gazzy. I bet that Iggy has brought him out to spy on us.

Why, the little stalkers- and _shit_ (sorry for the swearing, I try not to, honest!)! They've seen me and Fang… and Fang and me… and oh, I'm doing it again…

The teasing will never end!

I brace myself and take a quick little look at Fang, to see how's he's taken the whole me-rejecting-him thing, but he's staring behind me in what _looks_ like disbelief. Well, at least it's _some_ sort of emotion…

I turn around, pleading silently _no pink cheeks, threatening face, _when I'm tackled by a small boy. Into a small boy bear-hug.

"Max, it is you!" small boy shouts into my ear.

I look at Fang in confusion, but he's stiff now, and his face is expressionless. Well done, small boy. Way to ruin the mood.

And yes, I _am_ going to blame the whole thing on small boy. I mean, screw it up? _Me_? Nah. Why, you must have me confused with small boy.

And then I realize who small boy is.

"_Ari_?" I gasp, as he pulls away to beam at me. Whoa, the little sucker really took the breath out of me.

And I mean that nicely, of course.

"What… What are you doing here?"

"I'm with dad!" Ari tells me, jerking his finger behind him.

_Oh no._

I pull Ari off of me as _nicely_ as I can before standing up as casually as I can. Fang follows my lead.

I am _not_ going to look at Jeb. Never again.

Ever.

So, _naturally_, I walk right into him.

I mean, naturally of course.

"Max?" he asks in his 'Jeb' voice. Gah, it's so _annoying_!

Alright, so it's a 'father' voice, and he's my father and so on and so on… but not anymore! Not in my head he isn't!

"Jeb," I say as Fang nods in recognition, true to his post as my right-hand man.

_And, thanks to me – I mean, _small boy_, unmasked as Ari, just that._

Whoa, I _am_ stupid!

I mean, small boy is stupid.

Ah, but that's just _mean_…

I decide that acknowledging his presence is probably enough to give him a good night's sleep – not that he deserves it – and I try to walk away, with a nod to Fang, but Ari grabs onto my t-shirt.

"Max, you're not going right now, are you?" I turn to see my own _brother's_ broken expression. I really am stupid! "I thought that we could hang out."

I turn around, not looking at Jeb, not looking at his face, and crouch down to meet Ari's height. Fang stands behind me, looking ready to break out into an all-out gansta fight at any second.

"I can't right now, buddy. It's late. And I have a…" I stop, partly because it would rhyme (I know, I'm thinking _what the fudge?_ too right now) and partly because… am I still going to go? After what just happened with Fang… which was… Nothing.

Sigh. _Nothing_ just happened with Fang.

Well, nothing new anyways. I mean, what's an almost-kiss after this past week?

_A _real_ almost-kiss…_

Shut UP, Voice!

"No you won't," Ari mutters. No more carefree small boy. Now it's angry small boy. "You said that you would when you left, but then you didn't."

Ahh… Okay… The little tyke got me there…

"I'm mean, you came on Christmas, and on my birthday… but can we ever just hang out? Some of my friends won't even believe that I _have_ a sister."

And I feel terrible.

"Oh, well… I'll come another time. I promise. I'll… call."

I shudder involuntarily at the thought of Jeb picking up the phone instead of Ari… And then I see the look on Ari's face, and I forget all about it.

"You super promise?"

What kind of person am I if my own _brother_ gets hopeful to see me, for all the wrong reasons?

"Yup," I say, trying to keep my voice from breaking. "I super promise."

_CHEESE ATTACK!_

_Just shut up, Voice._

"OK," Ari says, starting to jump up and down. "Were you and Fang kissing?"

OH HOLY MOLY.

But it's OK, because he asked it with the innocence of a seven year-old.

I can just imagine Fang smirking behind me.

Who am I kidding? It's _not_ OK.

"No," I say quickly. "We were just talking… really closely."

"That's what Michael's sister tells him."

"Well, believe her next time." Poor girl.

And Ari tackles me in a hug again. And I feel even worse, because it's feels like he's going to squeeze my eyeballs out, which means that he's hugging me pretty tightly, which means that he really wants to hug me.

"You are a real sister, aren't you?" he whispers into my ear. "Like Michael's sister."

OK.

STAB ME WITH A FREAKING RUSTY _KNIFE_ WHY DON'T YOU. YEAH, YOU TOO.

Hugging Ari, I can't help but look up at Jeb, who's looking at us with his sad, sad eyes, and suddenly, I feel really sorry for him.

Heck, right now I'll feel sorry for anyone. As long as 'anyone' isn't me.

'Cause I suck.

Maybe I've been a bit harsh on him… I mean, he is my dad… he was only doing what he thought was best for me…

WAIT A SECOND.

No, Max, no forgiving of Jeb. Nu-huh.

"Sure I am," I say to Ari, letting go.

"OK," he smiles.

I smile at him and stand up. As soon as I'm at eye level with Jeb (either I'm taller or he's shorter… Maybe both?) my smile disappears.

"Are you stalking me?"

He sighs.

"No, I'm not stalking you."

"Dad didn't believe it was you sitting here, because you were kissing Fang," Ari tells me. "He said not to bug Fang, but I did anyways because I knew that it was you and because I haven't seen you in ages."

Okay.

The rational part of me is thinking: _I _wasn't_ kissing Fang, alright?_

But the cranoodle-istic part of me is thinking:

"Someone that looks like me but that's kissing Fang _isn't_ me?" I demand angrily. Whoa, that was stupid.

Jeb looks at me skeptically.

"Fang kisses a lot of girls," Ari says. I look down at him in disbelief.

"No he doesn't!" I say when Fang says nothing from behind me.

"And you always said that you would never like him like that…" Jeb continues. _Please shut up in front of Fang, Jeb. Please. It will only make me hate you more_. Then Jeb shrugs. "I'm sorry. Things change. I should pay more attention to you. But, it is hard-"

"Oh, don't turn this around on me! I'm leaving," I say. Before he makes me dig myself into my own pit of guilt and leaves me there to _die_. "I'll call you, Ari," I tell my brother. "I promise."

I get ready to see Fang's smirking face as I turn around but – whoa! – he's not there.

Well, that sucks.

"Where'd he go?" I ask Jeb. As reluctant as I am to talk to him… Where the cranoodle is Fang?

And, more importantly, _when_ did he leave?

Jeb looks as confused as I feel.

"I don't know," he says. "I didn't see him leave."

It's my turn to sigh.

With my luck, he probably heard the whole 'You always said that you would never like him like that…' thing.

Who am I kidding _probably_?

That's most definitely what he heard.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and for a bizarre – yet completely understandable – second I think that it's Fang, with either:

1) I hate you, I'll never speak to you again, you don't like me and never will, Jeb said so

2) Meet me at the park entrance so that we can get our snogging on.

All in a Fang way, of course. Probably without the 'snog' verb.

But, nope.

Somehow, he-who-has-been-completely-forgotten-over-the-past-few minutes managed to get my phone number.

Oh, oops. I gave it to him.

_From: Dylan_

_Where r u?_

"Holy cranoodle!" I gasp out loud. Jeb frowns at me, and Ari´s already asking him if he can have an ice-cream – at eight at night? We certainly have some catching up to do – but I don't really care. "Bye," I mutter, stomping away from them, looking around sort of frantically for Fang.

And no, not for a snog.

Yeuch.

I'm looking for Fang because he can either say (through our super cool mind-reading power thing, of course) _No, don't go because I'm here and I'm sort of trying to confess my actual _real_ feelings for you_ **or **_Sure, go ahead, you can't leave the poor guy hanging like that_.

OK, I just snorted to myself at the second option.

But the first…

"Fang?" I ask aloud. No one around.

_D'aww, the poop has really hit the fan here, Max._

OK, Voice. How many times do I have to tell you to _SHUT THE CRANOODLE UP_?

* * *

><p>Yeahh, I'm putting the <strong>AN** at the end of this chapter so that you don't have to read it before reading the chapter because WHOA that was a mean cliffhanger. Sorry you guys.

Many of you asked WHY?

Well, the answer is simple.

IT'S BECAUSE I'M EVIILL.

OK, not entirely sure. I don't even know why I left it there *shrugs*. I suppose I didn't really care, because I knew what was going to happen, but that's sort of selfish… Ummm… EVILNESS.

_Here_ I am going to mention how in love I am with every single one of my reviewers, in a nice, friendly kind of way, not a very creepy, stalker kind of way.

OKAY.

Oh, and YAY to the guys who got the A Very Potter Musical reference! And to those who knew AVPM but didn't catch the reference, it was the "You're the Tigger to my Winnie, the Mickey to my Minnie!" bit. Kinda stole that from Ginny's/Cho Chang's song. It came up on my iTunes. Sue me. (BUT DON'T REALLY) And yus. I have seen the sequel. AND IT WUZ AWESOME.

And for those who don't know what A Very Potter Musical is, well… a bit out there on the fandom thing, BUT, if you like HP (END OF AN ERA, GUYS! D': SHIIISKEBAABBB) you should most definitely look it up on youtube. In fact, even if you _don't_ like HP, you should watch it. Because Darren Criss is supermegafoxyawesomehot.

So, also, I lied to everyone (even myself) about the angst last chapter. It was weird… In my head, there was going to be angst. A bucket-load. But, then I wrote it, and there wasn't any at all. See, I felt sorta bad for Fang and didn't want to make him look like a total douche (new word, I find it bizarrely funny!) again.

And OMG I'm using this as a diary. ARGGG, sorry GAIZ. Most of you probably aren't even reading this. Who am I kidding? No one's reading this!

Well, peace out!

_(And I'm listening to Darren Criss being supermegafoxyawesomehot as I write this chapter… kept on distracting me… he made me like _Glee_… DARN YOU, DARREN… and, for the record, the first half of the first season of _Glee_ is the best stuff out there)_

HOLY CRANOODLE I'M UNSTOPABBLE.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N**: _Disclaimer! I do (not) own MR or the songs in this chapter!_ … And you should check the songs out…

OK, guys, I'm going to take this wonderful opportunity to tell you guys some not-so-wonderful news.

I mean, it's not not-so-wonderful if you hate this story, but I don't think you would have gotten so far if you did.

I won't be able to update or exchange PMs (am I the only one who secretly reads that as PMS? Sorry, I'm nervous for no reason) for a month and one week.

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

I'm going on holiday, since its summer and everything. But I feel very rotten. Very rotten indeed.

I need you guys to promise that you won't forget this story, that'll it'll be in your hearts the whole time. OK, so not really, but seriously: *terminator voice* I'LL BE BACK. AND ZEN I VILL _DESTROY_ DE SNICKUHS BAHRS!

_And_ to lessen the blow, later I'm going to Chapter 1 of the Fang POV story! Doesn't really reveal much of the plot, and I feel less terrible this way.

'Tis called _I'm Not Overreacting_. Keep your eyes peeled! (Horrible expression)

OK, love to everyone, see you guys in a month and one week! :D (I bet that you want to punch me, Max-style)

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 11<span>

Now: did I go on the date with Dylan or not? I suppose that's all you really care about, huh?

Well, I did what _every_ coward does – I rang him up and said that my grandfather was dying.

We'll question the morality of my excuse later.

Anyway, it made Angel happy, and that's all that matters, right?

Argh. Just shoot me now.

I'm lying in bed, tossing and turning and thinking about (you get a prize if you guess what before reading the next line)

Fang.

You know, being a girl sucks. I mean, apart from all the stuff that comes with 'being a girl', like… well, I'm not going to go into details, but girls are born not knowing that their lives are basically going to suck.

I mean, childbirth? Are you freaking kidding me? That's got to hurt.

We had to watch a video at school.

Scarred. For. Life.

And then, we _have_ to have children because they're so adorable that you can't _not_ have them!

And what do guys have? Well, apart from embarrassing situations if they see a really 'hot' girl, I can't really think of anything truly terrible. I mean, could someone please make _them_ have the children instead?

OK, nasty image.

But still.

The point that I'm trying to make is that I've forgotten the point that I'm trying to make.

Hey, mulling over stuff at two in the morning is _hard_. Thoughts get away from you and then you forget what you're thinking about.

Hmmm… what was I thinking about?

Fang.

Oh, wait! Darn, that's like, the sixth time that's happened tonight! This is not cool! I finally distract myself from the one and only, and then I forget that that was the point.

Gaahhh.

Angel is snoring. It's kind of bizarrely funny to me.

I wonder what Fang would think of it…

CRANOODLE!

OK. This isn't working. I reach out for my iPod and put in my headphones. Let's think hard about the lyrics, and try not to relate them to Fang.

I press on _Shuffle Songs_ and away we go.

In a very annoying way, _The Only Exception_ by Paramore is the first one that pops up. I don't even listen to Paramore. What the cranoodle?

Oh, no, I associate with Ella and it makes sense. We share a computer, and I've got all the songs on the computer on my iPod (so I'm obsessed with filling it up. Sue me).

Well, the lead singer has cool hair, so let's give this a try.

_When I was younger I saw__my daddy cry __  
>and curse at the wind<br>He broke his own heart  
>and I watched<br>as he tried to reassemble it  
>and my momma swore<br>that she would  
>never let herself forget<em> (Hm, so far, this is strangely accurate)  
><em>and that was the day that I promised<em>_  
>I'd never sing of love<br>if it does not exist_(Oh, snap)

_But Darlin...__  
>you are the only exception,<br>You are the only exception_

I start fumbling around for the iPod. Where is it! I need to change song! I don't know about you, but I find this ridiculously unfair. What the cranoodle? Cool hair my ass!

_Maybe I know somewhere__  
>deep in my soul<br>that love never lasts  
>And we've got to find other ways<br>to make it alone  
>keep a straight face<em>

Ah, my iPod. Somehow it'd gotten tangled in the sheets. Which is not cool, but I'll deal with that later.

I skip song. What's next?

The Smiths? Why the heck do we have The Smiths?

And then... Britney Spears? Are you kidding me.

I suppose that I get really annoyed when I find two High School Musical songs. In. A. Row.

This is going pretty badly so far.

I skip song after song (whoever put Barbie Girl onto our computer must die a very painful death) wondering what the world has done with my Vampire Weekend. I mean, why did I think that one thousand, four hundred and sixty three songs was a good idea?

Will someone _please_ answer me?

So, after a rather strange song that _does_ take my mind off of stuff (Halle-fudging-luyah) that I think is about moving and being paranoid about everything (and I'm just going to go with that, because if it has deeper meaning I don't want to know) called _Be Calm_ by 'Fun.' an alright-ish song comes onto my iPod. I think it's about funerals, but hey, whatevs.

When it ends, I think: that was OK. I wonder who it was by, so that I can store it for later.

And just guess.

GUESS, I DARE YOU!

It's _Macy's Day Parade_ by…

Green Day.

I take my pillow and put it over my head and scream.

xxx

"Hey," Iggy says, pushing past me into my house.

"Yo, what's up?" Fang asks, following suit, _completely_ at ease.

_Oh, I'm _fine, _seeing as you stopped to hear my answer and stuff. No sleep last night, but, you know, whatever. How about you, after, you know, you just _left me there_!_

So, he just walks on by, following Iggy, not even looking at me again. Well, way to be _infuriating_, Fang.

"What? No cookies?" Iggy asks, outraged.

I close my eyes and sigh. _Gotta face Fang, gotta face Fang, gotta face Fang…_

"Get out of my kitchen, Ig!" I shout.

Facing Fang can go onto my (very long) to-do list.

"What are you guys doing here?" I ask, following them into _my_ kitchen. I can't bring myself to look at Fang. But I will! I promise! It's on my to-do list!

Alright, who am I kidding? I don't even have a real list. Not even a piece of paper.

"The house is empty, right?" Iggy asks at Fang sits at the table. Iggy's rummaging through the fridge.

It's nice that he keeps his hands clean.

_I mean, at least I _think_ that he does…_

Let's just forget the last thought, shall we?

It's nice that he keeps his hands clean.

"Well… yes…"

"Well then, the three of us haven't hung out in, say, a week and a day? And no, I haven't been listening to Disney Channel. And we should probably make use of the time, seeing as… Ooh, bacon!"

I sigh.

Iggy and his bacon. Fang and Iggy's bacon.

OK, I'll admit it. That sounded bad.

But they're both obsessed about bacon.

And… just _don't_.

Iggy feels his way around my kitchen and eventually finds a frying pan.

"Careful with that," Fang says. Iggy frowns in Fang's general direction.

"Oh, sure, doubt the blind guy," he snarls.

"Well, yeah…"

"But we all know that I'm not the average blind guy," Iggy says. I roll my eyes. Iggy's testosterone level is not to be judged lightly. And then he starts doing the bizarre thing in which he spins the frying pan's handle through his fingers. I'll admit, it looks kind of cool. Like he's in a Kung-Fu movie or something.

Or _Tangled_, but whatever. Because I _totally_ haven't seen that movie. Pft…

"Aha!" Iggy says, as if he himself is surprised of his mad skillz. (And I did _not_ just think 'mad skills') Even Fang has raised his eyebrows. "OK, I'm blind, but this has got to look pretty god-damn cool."

"Yup, now you really _can_ run away with the circus," Fang says. He won't look at me. But I'm not thinking about that right now. I'm just watching Iggy being a complete and total – but cool – freak-

The frying pan in flung out of Iggy's hand and Fang ducks under the table. It crashes against the wall that had been directly behind Fang's head.

"Whoa!" Iggy says. "That's loud!"

A normal person would spout out 'sorry' as fast as they can.

But, Iggy, as well as not being an average blind guy, he's not an average person either.

"No, you didn't hit me," Fang says irritably, standing up.

"You hit the wall pretty hard," I say, observing the dent in the wall. Fang turns around and looks at it too.

"Dude, you're going to die," he says. Iggy grins.

"It was perfectly aimed at your head, wasn't it?" he asks, sounding hopeful.

"_I'm_ not going to kill you," Fang says calmly. "Dr. M is when she comes back and sees a dent in her wall."

Iggy's grin falls.

"Well, this sucks."

Well put.

He pauses, as if pondering something.

"Still up for bacon?"

Fang smirks.

"I'm _always_ up for bacon."

OK. I'd be as emo as Fang if I didn't burst out laughing.

Fang stares at me, and starts to smile too. Then Iggy starts to cackle like a mad-man, and all normalcy (though I'm not saying that there was any to begin with) is lost.

And, you know, with the awkwardness between me and Fang, I'm kind of fine with _just_ this.

OK, so I love it.

Iggy's still cackling like a mad-man as he puts the frying pan (also dented, by the way) on the stove and gets ready to put in the bacon.

I breathe heavily, trying to calm myself down, trying not to look completely crazy. Fang is still smiling, and that's as good as it gets.

And then our eyes meet, and his smile fades.

It feels like I actually can't move. Time stops –literally. OK, so not literally, but _cranoodle_. My heart rate increases by, like, a hundred and sixty percent. I'm a-hopin' that his does too, because otherwise it just wouldn't be fair.

… When did this happen? I mean, _really_? When did _meeting eyes with Fang_ turn into such a big deal?

But his eyes are so dark… like chocolate… like dark chocolate… like melted dark chocolate… Have I mentioned that I like chocolate? Because I do… And I like Fang's eyes, too… they're nice…

"If you two are making out back there, you _do_ know that you're _supposed_ to kiss the chef, right?" Iggy says to the frying pan. Well, not to the frying pan, but you know what I mean…

And, well, _that_ certainly snaps me out of it.

"I'm going to check to see if there's damage on the other side of the wall," I say quickly, looking anywhere but where Fang is. "If not, maybe we could hang up a picture or something to cover it up."

And I am _so_ out of there.

I know that I'll have to go back for the bacon, but hey, I'm moving. I close the kitchen door behind me and breathe out.

_Gotta face Fang, gotta face Fang, gotta face Fang, gotta get some face off of Fang, gotta_- Wait, **_WHAT_**?

I _do_ look to see if there's a dent in the wall in the hallway, but that would have to be one bad-ass frying pan. Not a surprise that the wall is as boring as ever – honestly, it wouldn't kill mom to by some paintings or something. You know, big paintings that cost a little over five dollars.

I tap the wall for a while, trying to calm down. Then I realize that, with no wall and no door, I would be tapping Fang's head.

_Teeheehee_…

"Max."

"Cranoodle!"

"Stop saying that."

"Stop sneaking up on me!"

You know when you seem to have the same conversation, over and over? It should have a name… Oh, wait, it does.

But, for some reason the conversation is so much different right now. And no, not because I'm having it with Fang.

OK, _because_ I'm having it with Fang.

I fail so heard at not caring.

"Did Iggy send you out here?" I ask him.

Fang shakes his head.

He seems to read my mind – the teasing will never end! – and shrugs.

"I'm pretty quiet when I move."

I'm about to say 'Well, no freaking _duh'_ when realization dawns on me.

"He's talking to himself," I say, listening out. "Well, technically to you… That's mean."

"It's Iggy," Fang points out.

"Oh, then it's alright then… _What happened yesterday_?"

I just blurt it out, and I trip over my words, because I'm smooth like that.

"I mean… you just left," I try as I pick up the pieces of my dignity. And then I realize that I'm kind of pissed at him. Meaning very pissed.

I put my hands on my hips and glare at him.

"I thought that it was more of a family thing," he answers.

"_You're_ my family."

He raises an eyebrow. I bet that he's thinking 'incest' too. And that's just nasty.

"Yeah, well, I had to leave."

"It was Bridgid, wasn't it?"

"What?" he asks. Ooh, wrong move. "No… Max, just _stop_ it with Bridgid already, okay?"

"OK, _okaaay_." Pause. "So, what was it? Really? And don't say that you heard the word 'bacon' being used unfairly in a sentence so you had to go and balance out the universe."

True story.

Fang hesitates.

"My mom called," he says finally.

I raise an eyebrow.

"You're _mom_ called," I repeat. His expression betrays nothing.

As per fudging usual. Pardon my (odd) French.

"Since when was she allowed to have your number?"

Fang shrugs.

"Something's up," I say, feeling like quite the people-reader. I mean, I can read _Fang_. That has to get me a Nobel Prize or _something_.

I mean, take _that_, Bridgid the super-nerd.

"What was your mom calling you for?"

Fang shifts his weight.

"I thought you knew," he finally says.

"Knew _what_, exactly?"

It's obviously not good, seeing as he's delaying it.

And then he takes a step towards me. I curse the day he was suddenly taller than me. Because it _actually_ happened like that. One minute, we were the same height, then we stood next to each other and mom was like: '_Fang, you've grown!'_

_In a second._

Mad growing skillz. _With_ a 'z'.

Ooh, wait, I'm off topic.

By a _mile_.

Oh my cranoodle, I'm terrible, aren't I? Soon I'm going to start thinking about how Nudge thinks that _Fangtastic_ should be a word…

OH, I SEE WHAT I DID THERE. OOPS.

Anyways…

Fang is doing it again. The whole leaning-in-for-a-kiss thing.

But he's stopped at a distance that's just infuriating. I mean, his hair is touching my forehead. And I can smell how nice he smells again.

Then, the super-cool mind-reading happens again.

He's not closing the distance because he wants _me_ to.

Aha, he's so naïve.

And – I only realized this moments ago – his eyes are Fangtastic. And yes, I will shoot you if you tell anyone I thought that. (Who _is_ 'you'? Blargh)

I look away from his eyes, but then I just look at his mouth.

OMG FAIL.

"Why now?"

For some reason, it comes out in a whisper, when I feel like I should be shouting because I'M TOTALLY FREAKING OUT.

AGAIN!

Fang swallows.

OK, for some reason, that's totally se- _awesome_. OK, _awesome_'s not doing it for me. How about _hot_? Yeah, let's just leave it at that. Or at _extremely attractive_.

And not at _Fangtastical_ .

(W. T. F?)

"_Now_ because…" Fang starts, not looking at my eyes. Aha, been there, done that, buddy. "I just want to… before… Listen, Max, I-"

"Hey, lovebirds! The bacon is ready! And it's not _my_ fault if I eat it all!"

Fang doesn't move an inch. In fact, he's clenched his fists and is as stiff as a statue, like he does when he's pissed off at someone, or something.

Probably Iggy. OK, most definitely at Iggy. And, in that case, I share Fang's sentiments.

IGGY MUST DIE.

So, I do the first thing that I can think of that will make us _both_ feel better.

I close the gap between us.

* * *

><p>AN2: Hey, guys! I know, we can all meet up one day and talk about how evil I am.

But, until then, here's the rest of the chapter!

(Fooled you, haha! Sorry, couldn't resist... EVILLL):

* * *

><p>Kissing Fang...<p>

Well, you see... kissing Fang is...

Um...

IT'S FANGTASTIC.

Aw, dang it, I just had to.

We can talk about morality later.

And, oh, points to me for kissing him first! I mean, I win, huh?

No, I don't win the 'game'. Does that even exist anymore?

I just win at being so much more awesome than Fang.

WIN.

As soon as my mouth touches his, it doesn't take him long to catch on. He unfreezes from his statue-form and then we're kissing each other, and can I _please_ repeat the word FANGTASTIC. In capitals.

Because I'm worth it.

And yes, you're allowed to shoot me now.

But, if these are my last seconds on Earth, so be it.

Argh, kissing Fang is making my _brain_ cocky. Not good.

... _Or is it_?

I'll stop now.

He puts his hands on my waist, as if to make sure that I won't go anywhere - Ha, as _if_! - and I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in closer.

And, here's the much loved part of me thinks this/part of me thinks that:

Part of me is thikning: Ohhhh snap, I'm kissing Fang, and he's kissing back, and... Iggy's in the kitchen?

The other part of me is thinking: FANGFANGFANG FANGFANGFANG FANGFANGFANG FANGFANGFANG FANGFANGFANG FANGFANGFANG FANGFANGFANG

And the 'other part' occupies a considerably louder part of my brain.

So, I'm kind of asking for:

"You know, sometimes I wish that I could see again just to see you two awkwardly making out. It's bound to be hilarious."

Fang and I freeze and turn towards the blind guy, who's holding a frying pan full of freshly cooked bacon.

Now my brain is still in 'FANGFANGFANG' mode, so what comes out of my mouth is:

"Huh?"

It's unbelievably sad.

I mean, Fang, the chatterbox, manages more than me. Not fair.

"You need to sort out your priorities."

"Don't go all Ron Weasley on me. _I'm_ the ginger."

Aww, c'mon, a quote?

And all I can think to say is: "Huh?"

Again.

Iggy smirks.

"Well, I'm sorry my friend, but I'm not doing that for your going-away present." He must here Fang step away from me. "Unless you want me to...?"

I look at Fang in disbelief.

"You're _going away_?"

Fang's eyes are alert and confused. He looks from me to Iggy.

The latter says, "Oops. My bad."

* * *

><p>AN3: EVIL.

Much love to you guys! Less than three guys, less than three!


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

OK. So, maybe (just maybe) you've forgotten what's been going on in my life for the past few seconds.

Just maybe.

So, here's a recap.

I kissed Fang.

(I _know_!)

And, lets just say, he kissed back.

(I KNOW!)

So, cue fireworks when Iggy (and most definitely _not_ a firework, no matter how many times he insists on singing that Katy Perry song as loud as he can)

bursts in on us, makes fun of us (but we all knew that was going to happen) _aaaand_ then lets slip that Fang is going away.

... I know.

"You're _going away_?" I ask tall, dark and se-TRAITOR. TALL, DARK AND TRAITOR!

Iggy pulls a face.

"Oops."

_Fang lets out a hearty laugh._

_"Of course I am! And so are you, sugar-plum!" he announces. "To our pink castle that floats in the clouds above Disneyland! We can visit the theme park whenever we want, for free, and we can also visit Harry Potter land! We'll go back to Hogwarts instead of school, back to witches and wizards and magical beasts, we'll meet Dumbledore because he's not really dead! In fact, neither are Dobby or Fred! Or Lupin, or Tonks, because that's just mean! I mean, what was JK thinking?"_

_Iggy and I stare at him._

_"There's gonna be bacon," Fang then adds._

_"YAAAAY!" we all chorus, throwing our hands into the air. Fang picks me up bridal-style, Iggy turns into a pegasus and we fly all the way to our new home._

Oh, and, in case you're wondering; that does _not_ happen.

"I... I thought you knew," Fang stammers, not looking me in the eye. That's a first. Meaning: be very afraid.

I want to ask 'Knew what?' but my voice won't work. Iggy is blending into the background - Fang's thing, but I couldn't really care less - still holding the frying pan full of bacon. "I'm moving to Paris with E- mom. Next week."

I blink.

I mean,

1- Fang does not _stammer_. And

2- What the _fuuuuuuuuuuuudge_? Because, I know that Fang isn't exactly a talkative being, but _come on_! He just let that slip? The moving-to-the-other-side-of-the-world thing?

_OK, Max. Keep calm. There's probably a reasonable explanation for this. But really. You know that your temper is terrible. Just think of that song you were listening to the other night. Yeah. That'll work._

_ Be calm. Be calm. I know you feel like you are breaking dow-_

**THUMP**.

xxx

Alright. So my fist _somehow_ managed to find it's way to Fang's face. His perfect nose, to be exact.

And yeah... So he _did_ bleed all over mom's carpet. And I did kick them _both_ out of my house, claiming the recently cooked bacon as my own.

And I spent the rest of the weekend listening to My Chemical Romance (I now know all the lyrics to Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge and The Black Parade... Go random iTunes!)

But I can proudly say that I haven't cried. Then again, give it a few days more days of MCR and I'd be crying black tears. Or blood.

OK, you're allowed to shoot me for that last part. That was extremely offensive, morose, depressing and kind of gross. (Aha, I rhyme!)

And I'm _not_ going to cry.

I shouldn't cry. That would be messed up.

Fang should cry.

Yeeeaaah.

But whatever. I'm better now. Angel can come in the room, 'cause she's not scared of the music, 'cause I turned it off.

I know, right? Scared. Of MCR!

"_I Don't Love You_ isn't scary," I argued with Ella when she told me Angel's feelings. "It's beautifully heartbreaking."

Ella raised her eyebrows and started counting off of her fingers.

"_House of Wolves, Mama, I Never Told You What I Do For A Living, How I Disappear, Dead_..."

"OK, OK, I get it!"

And then she had put _Teenage Dream_ on.

The Glee version.

I know, I know... How dare she?

But whatever.

That bloodstain never came out of the carpet, and mom killed me twice.

Oh, but don't worry. I'm alive.

Oh, and Ella is my friend again now!

Then again, I think that really Nudge put her up to it, to find out what was wrong with me.

Anyways.

I'm off to school.

It's Thursday.

The past three days have been avoiding Nudge (questions... arggg), avoiding Fang (no duh), avoiding Iggy, avoiding Dylan (I mean, is my 'grandfather' still in the hospital, or what?), avoiding mom (see Nudge), avoiding Ella (see mom)... alright, avoiding everyone but Angel and Gazzy.

I've taken them to the park more times than I can count.

I know, I'm a great sort-of-cousin.

And lately, I've been taking the Underground to school. Mostly because I don't know anyone that takes the Underground anywhere.

Whatever.

It's worked perfectly for the past few days. But today is Thursday.

Thursday's have never been good.

And people use the Underground all the time!

...

'People' use the Underground all the time.

So, I get onto a carriage before the thing starts moving again - those things be crazy - and then it does _start_ moving again. So, I can't jump off and pretend to have the wrong one, because I'm already sitting down.

And you know who 'people' is?

Because, it's not Fang and Iggy. We cleared that up the other day.

Nope. 'People' is the one, the only-

"Max?"

"Cranoodle!"

Dylan stares at me with his big, blue eyes.

Fuuuudge...

I'm sitting next to him. I'm sitting next to Dylan.

_The_ Dylan.

The Dylan I've been skilfully avoiding for the past few days.

Which concludes my theory that Thursdays suck.

We sit in silence for a few stops, Dylan nods in time to his iPod (I'm guessing...) looking at me every now and then, whilst I mentally curse everything I've ever believed in.

Especially Fang. For no apparent reason.

And then he speaks.

Dylan. Not Fang.

...

"'Cranoodle'?"

I look at him, surprised.

OK, how come that when Dylan says it, it sounds hilarious?

Good thing I'm not in the mood for laughing, huh?

"It's a word."

He looks thoughtful.

And not scared. Which is sorta good, I suppose... And he looks adorable when he's thoughtful...

"... Cranberry and noodle?"

I stare at him.

"No," I finally say. "Not at all."

Silence.

Then Dylan takes both his earphones out and puts them in his pocket.

Well, I guess I've earned this...

"How's your grandfather?"

"He's dead."

OK, WHOA! I DID NOT MEAN TO SAY THAT! I WAS ACTUALLY GOING TO SAY THAT HE WAS FINE, AND HAD MOVED TO ITALY! Actually, not Italy, because that's Europe, and Europe reminds me of ... You-Know-Who.

Yeah! I saw Voldemort in Italy the other day!

And I'm going to stop now...

Dylan's mouth drops open, and his eyes widen.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry..."

"No, it's fine. I didn't like him anyways."

Uh... yeah...

Dylan blinks, and my cheeks go read.

"I mean, I did like him, I just- it's so confusing, you know?"

Ahh, the truth!

"I know," Dylan says, looking down. "I lost one of mine last year. It's weird, because you feel really bad... but I never saw him, and I don't know..."

Oh, great. Way to go, Max. You're going to make the guy cry.

Well freaking done.

Then he lets out a nervous laugh, and looks at me again.

"Sorry. This is awkward."

"No, I'm sorry! This is my fault..."

He frowns.

"It's not your fault that your grandfather died," he says sternly.

I open my mouth and close it again.

I honestly do not know how I get myself into these situations.

"No, it's my fault that this is awkward," I finally stammer. "My best friend is moving, and I feel really lousy..."

OK, HOLD THE FREAKING PHONE.

How many stops until I get close to the school? I'd like to get off at the next stop, make up some excuse... But then I'd probably loose another grandfather.

I don't even know if I have any grandparents!

_Note to self: look that up._

But I should probably close my mouth. Starting now.

"Oh. That sucks," Dylan says. Pause. "You mean Iggy?"

I raise an eyebrow before remembering that people do know about our trio. Iggy, Fang and Max. OK, mostly people just know about Fang and Max, but that's been going on for ages. BEFORE I my life got messed up, I mean. When I changed schools.

"No..." I say, "Fa-"

OK. My voice broke. Aaaand I haven't shut my mouth yet. "Fang," I say again, more clearly.

"Oh," Dylan says. "I'm sorry."

Too bad that he doesn't look sorry at all.

To be completely honest, he looks sort of... hopeful?

_Shudder_.

"Oh, wait, this is us," he says suddenly.

_Us?_ I think of saying (yeah, I _think_) before realizing that I have my bag full of books and all.

We get up and off of the train before it starts moving again and I can't believe that I just thought 'we' as in me and Dylan and I swear my thoughts lately are freaking _painful_.

"How does he feel about it?" Dylan asks as we come up into the open. We're about a block or two away from the school.

"Hm?" I ask, trying hard to keep my mouth shut. I know, progress!

"Fang," he clarifies.

Alright, every time I think/say/hear Fang's voice I want to scream.

Not cool.

"I... don't really know. I kind of haven't spoken to him."

And here we go again!

I'm going with the theory that, when I keep things bottled up, it just all comes out. Like puke.

OK, **gross**.

"Why not?" Dylan asks, interest peaked.

Not sure how to feel about that... Then again, I'm not really sure how to feel about anything anymore.

"Because... I'm mad at him."

"Why?"

Fast, like a puma!

I shrug.

_KEEP YOUR FREAKING MOUTH SHUT OR I WILL SHUT IT FOR YOU!_

(Yes, I have questions about _that_ inner rambling too)

"When's he leaving?"

Shrug.

_Because I actually have no idea._

"You should probably find out. Because it would suck if he left before you got to say goodbye..."

Ho-lee cranoodle.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Update out of the blue, not back from holiday yet (a week and a half left!), but reviews are love! Love it, hate it? Don't really care? Completely forgotten about this stories existence? Love me, hate me? (OK, random. And kind of creepy)

But how bad was _Fang_ (book)? I mean, hello! Plot! You better be in there! (it wasn't. It was just Angel going psycho.)

Yet how awesome was _Angel_? My love for Iggy has grown (I don't really have an explanation for that, it's sort of uncalled for) and my love for Fang has... well, it's been challenged, alright. I mean, fine, be bffs with Maya, just don't piss me off about it!

And _my_ Dylan has sort of been in character! Awwww yeeeaaahhh (But book Dylan and I have a love/hate relationship. Especially when he suddenly starts singing. W. T. F?)

And, totally unrelated: HP DH P2 OMFG!


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